Counterfeit Princess
by Totally-Out-Of-It
Summary: Prince Arthur is coming to visit Lady Morgana, ruler of the city of Ealdor. The night before he arrives, though, Morgana goes missing! Gwen convinces Merlin to impersonate Morgana using magic until the lady can be found. It's going well except for the fact that Merlin is falling in love with the prince, who is visiting with the intention of making Morgana his wife! AU. Merthur.


**Counterfeit Princess**

_Morgana le Fay is Duchess of Ealdor, a moderately sized city in the kingdom of Albion. Her two best friends are Gwen, her handmaid, and Merlin, the physician's assistant. One day news arrives that Prince Arthur is coming to town to meet her, but why?_

_When Morgana goes missing the day before Prince Arthur arrives, Gwen approaches Merlin with an idea: Merlin can pretend to be Morgana until the Lady is found. The idea is ludicrous, but with a little bit of magic it might actually work._

_The plan starts out well, with Morgana's guard out searching for her while Merlin distracts the prince…except that Merlin finds himself falling in love with Arthur, who is visiting with the intention of making Morgana his queen. A gender bending fairy tale fic._

…

…

This was written for the After Camlann Big Bang Challenge. To view the art that goes with it, visit 'JessicaMDawn' on AO3 and look for the story by the same name.

...

...

Shepherds, bakers, and farmers were not the only people to rise with the sun. In the physician's office of Ealdor, Merlin was up with the first bird call. He washed his face and dressed for the day, ate a quick breakfast, and then headed downstairs to ready the shop for business.

Every morning, he checked the stock of medicinal plants, bandages, and salves. He made a list of all the herbs and flowers he would need to go collect soon. And while he did the stocking and list making, his magic did the manual labor.

A rag dusted the counter, followed by a wet, soapy cloth, followed by a dry one. The trio went along every flat surface, and even down the legs of the chairs and tables. Every book on the shelves pulled itself out to be dusted off by another cloth before shelving itself once more.

Once the cleaning and stock checks were done, Merlin took up a position at the workstation. This always happened within moments of his mentor and uncle, Gaius, descending the stairs from his own room.

"Good morning, Merlin," Gaius yawned.

"You're late," Merlin teased. "Maybe you're getting old."

Gaius whacked him on the arm as he passed by, but his lips were pulled up in a smile so Merlin knew he wasn't really upset. "Now, who's on the list today?"

Merlin pulled out a book and flipped it open to a list of patients. Next to each name was what type of medicine they needed, how often, and how much it cost. Merlin pointed at the third name on the list.

"Gladys," he said. "She'll be coming in for a refill today."

Gaius let out an 'ah' and began pulling out vials and bowls, herbs and liquids. He never needed to see the book to know what medicine went with what patient. It was all in his head. It never failed to awe Merlin every time. Even with all his magic, and his memory for spells, he wouldn't last one day without their client book.

Thus, like every morning, Merlin helped Gaius prepare potions and poultices, learning a bit more about medicine and healing every time. After, he would take the medicine and run it to the correct patient, collect the payment, and then return to help Gaius run the physician shop.

It wasn't a life of adventure, like in the bards' tales, but it was a life helping people and Merlin was content with that.

…

…

"Let's see…Hmm." Merlin felt around the offered produce, picking two small potatoes and three carrots. That would round out the soup for dinner pretty well. Everything else they would need was already at Gaius' house. Merlin paid the shopkeeper for the food, slipped them into his bag, and headed off down the street.

The city of Ealdor was not the largest in the kingdom of Albion – it had nothing on the capital of Camelot – but it could hold its own. There were tailors and smiths, bakeries and barbers, and all kinds of shops in between. The buildings all had at least two levels, usually more. The streets were paved and bustling with activity. They even boasted several inns and taverns that were rarely hurting for customers.

There was a deep red tunic visible through the open window of the tailor and Merlin paused to stare at it. Gaius' tunics were looking a little worn lately, and he always refused to spend his money on new ones. Buying ingredients for his medicines, food, and good books always won over clothing for Gaius. Merlin opened his purse to count his coins.

"Hello, Merlin!"

It was Guinevere, with a basket full of flowers on her arm and a wide smile on her face.

"Hello, Gwen," Merlin greeted. "Flowers for Morgana?"

The blush that dusted Gwen's cheeks was pretty. "You know me well." She held the basket out before her. "The castle's been looking a bit drab lately, so I thought I might lighten it up a bit."

Calling Morgana's home 'the castle' had always made Merlin imagine a great behemoth of a building, with turrets and spires, layers of walls and a moat. The castle of Ealdor was a moderate-sized fortress. It once helped defend the kingdom from invaders, holding out when most other towns had already fallen. The walls were thick and sturdy, with thin breaks for archers and hidden ports for pouring hot oil onto attackers.

But that was long ago. Now the Duchess Ealdor, Morgana of Tintagel – also known as Morgana le Fay for her beauty and skill with magic – was the sole permanent inhabitant of the castle. Her father, Gorlois of Tintagel, had been installed as Duke Ealdor by the current king of Albion, Uther Pendragon. She had inherited the title from him as his only child and heir.

Still, a castle was a castle. It was still the largest and most imposing building in Ealdor, and the city had grown around its walls.

"The castle would fall to ruin without you, Gwen."

Gwen chuckled. "I hardly think so." She tucked her basket back under her arm. "There are plenty of workers that keep the castle running besides me. Leander is very good at keeping the place clean, you know."

"And Mary bakes the best pies in the city," Merlin added of the castle cook, making Gwen laugh again.

He motioned down the street in the direction of the castle and they began walking.

"How's Gaius doing?" Gwen asked.

"He's doing fine. I think he thinks I'm hovering after that cold he had last week." Merlin had to dodge out of the way of a pair of running children. How come it was always him dodging things, not Gwen or anybody else?

Gwen frowned. "But it was awful. I was really worried for him. Morgana was too."

"Me too," Merlin admitted with a grimace. "But he keeps kicking me out in the afternoons, saying he's more than capable enough of running the shop without me. You would think he didn't _want _me to be his protégé."

A mischievous twinkle entered Gwen's eyes. "Maybe he wants you to get out more. Meet people." A purposeful pause. "Fall in love."

"Gwen," Merlin whined. "Not again."

She and Morgana were constantly teasing him about falling in love and getting married. Merlin said he was too gangly. They said he was slim. Merlin said he was too clumsy. They said he was earnest and honest. Merlin said no one would want him because he was just an apprentice. They said being a physician was an honorable and worthy job that anyone would love to marry into. Merlin said there was nothing special about him to draw someone in. They said his magic was the best they had ever seen. Not to mention he was cute and had remarkable ears.

He hated when they brought up his ears.

Laughing again, Gwen lightly touched his arm. "We only want you to be happy."

"I don't need to be in love to be happy," Merlin protested, though he didn't shake her off.

She nodded, accepting this as fact. "True. But imagine: to be in love."

Her eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands to her chest, imagining just that. No doubt she was thinking about all the storybooks and bard's tales about true love. Princes and knights saving their one true love. Evil magic spells beaten by true love's kiss. Simple lives turned extraordinary by passionate, unending love. Gifts of flowers and food and clothing and kisses.

Merlin grabbed her by the elbow before she could collide with a cart sitting in the road. She flushed in embarrassment.

"Maybe _you_ should get out more and fall in love," Merlin said, grinning. "Maybe with a certain apprentice of your father's?"

That earned him a slap on the arm that made him flinch, more in surprise than any pain. Gwen's face was dark with blush now. "No! He's—We're just friends—Why would you—Merlin!" she blustered, then twisted her hands together and looked at the ground as they walked. "You know he doesn't want to stay here. He wants to be a knight. In Camelot." She frowned. "What would someone like me do in Camelot?"

"What _wouldn't_ someone like you do?" Merlin responded. He grabbed her hand, making her look up at him. "You could design and sew clothing for the king himself, or work making armor for jousting competitions and wandering knights. Besides which, I have it on good authority that Lancelot's sweet on you."

"He is not," Gwen denied, but she looked pleased nonetheless.

"He is," Merlin asserted, releasing her hand to point back the way they had come, where Guinevere's father's blacksmith shop was. "I guarantee he would love it if you went with him to Camelot someday."

Gwen grabbed his arm to stop his pointing. "Alright, alright. I'll stop teasing if you do."

Merlin smirked, pleased to have won, and held out his arm. "Come on. I'll escort you to the castle, my lady."

"How kind of you, my lord," she said, taking the proffered arm.

They laughed together as they wandered up the city street.

…

…

If anyone was desperate for love, it was Merlin's friend Will.

"Here's your drinks, loves," said the busty waitress at the tavern, a genial smile on her face as she set a beer and a mead on the table before them.

Will tossed his head – as if he had enough hair to toss – and winked at her. "Thank you, _Love_."

The smile vanished from the waitress' face. To her credit, she didn't scowl or say anything mean to Will, she just turned and walked off, her shoulders decidedly more tense than before. Merlin shook his head, sipping his mead.

"You're gonna get slapped again."

"Will not," Will said, watching the woman walk away.

"Will too. Did you not see her face?"

Will took a swig of beer. "Yeah I did. Prettiest waitress they've got working here by far."

Merlin shook his head again. "Yeah, and the only one who hasn't either slapped you or thrown a drink at you. Probably because she's only just started working and doesn't know you yet."

"Yeah. Once she gets to know me, she'll fall head over heels in love," Will declared proudly before chugging half of his drink.

Merlin watched him with raised eyebrows. Where did he get his endless confidence from? All their lives, Will had been hitting on women left and right. They rejected him every time, yet still he persisted. If Merlin could be that undaunted by failure, he could do anything.

"I'm amazed you haven't been kicked out of every tavern in Ealdor by now. Blacklisted by the staff."

Belching, Will wiped his face and grinned. "Actually, they give me free food a lot of the time." At Merlin's incredulous look, Will wagged a finger at him. "I'm telling you: they love me."

They probably thought of him as some harmless stray dog, since he never got upset when someone turned him down or hit him. He just laughed and said something silly like 'Tell me how you really feel' or 'Assertive. That's a good quality in a woman.' It was still embarrassing to sit with him whenever stuff like that happened though – not least because half the time, Merlin got hit with drink as well.

"I'm telling you, Merlin, you ought to try it sometime."

"Try what, exactly?" Merlin asked, watching the other customers. There were three men playing a card game in the corner. They weren't from Ealdor. Merlin could slip in and win some coin if they were willing to make a bet.

"Flirting, of course." Will motioned wide with his arms, taking his beer cup with him. Some of the liquid splashed out and he took a moment to stare forlornly at it before continuing. "Gods know, someday you might actually want to date a bloke, but you'll scare him off because you have no idea what you're doing."

Merlin scowled. Another person telling him to fall in love. What was it with his friends lately? "I know what I'm doing."

"Hardly. Here, practice with me." Will leaned forward over the table. "Ask me out for a pint."

"We're already out for a pint."

Will rolled his eyes. "Obviously. I mean for later. Ask me out for drinks later. Like a date."

Sighing, Merlin rolled his eyes. "Wanna grab a drink later?" he asked in his best, and most sarcastic, flirting voice. "How was that?"

"Coulda done without the scowl. How _do_ you manage to sound inviting with that face?" Will asked, earning him a shove from Merlin that made him laugh. "But honestly, you do need some practice. As always, I'm willing to teach you. All it would cost you is a few charms – you know, vitality, strength—"

"Look at the sun, I've gotta go," Merlin interrupted, quickly downing the rest of his mead and standing from the table. "Gaius'll be expecting me."

He threw some coins on the table to pay for his drink as Will said, "Liar. You said he gave you the night off."

"So much to do in a physician's office, you know," Merlin continued. "There's a new patient who glows blue whenever they get sad. That'll take a lot of research to find a cure for. And another one with farts that smell like daisies." He was already heading for the door.

"You're making that up!" Will called after him, halfway to laughing.

Merlin waved goodbye to him before disappearing out the door, escaping Will's crazy schemes for another night.

…

…

One of Merlin's jobs for Gaius was delivering medicine to clients who could not come to the shop themselves, for whatever reason. Like Mr. Cary who was blind and never strayed far from his store, or Ms. Rivers who had a bad leg and couldn't make the trek up to Gaius' every week.

Or Morgana le Fay, the Duchess Ealdor, who was busy running the city and was stuck inside her castle for much of the day.

On his way into the castle, Merlin passed through a large gate, manned by two armed guards. Both of them waved and called out hellos as he went, more than used to him. In fact, Merlin visited so often that it wasn't uncommon for visitors to think he was one of the castle staff.

The space between the outer wall and the main castle wasn't large, but it was large enough to merit a guard to walk the grounds in case of intruders. The guard moving about the green that day was a face as familiar to Merlin as Gwen's.

"Elyan!"

Gwen's brother – and the head of Morgana's guards – turned at the call and gave a beaming smile. "Merlin! Hello! What's it today? Business or pleasure?"

Merlin held up the bottle in his hands. "Business."

"Ah," Elyan let out. "A sleeping potion for the Duchess. Isn't it usually the other way around in fairy tales? Trying to wake the beauty from sleep, rather than putting her under?"

"You'd take it too if your magic woke you up at night," Merlin chastised. Elyan held his hands up in good-natured surrender. "Anyway, how're things here? Anything interesting happen lately?"

Elyan let out a chuckle. "It's Ealdor, mate. Nothing interesting happens. That's one of the perks."

They clasped hands briefly before parting ways, Elyan back to his route and Merlin to find the lady of the castle. Up two flights of stairs and down one hallway, Merlin let himself into Morgana's rooms without even a cursory knock.

The main room was empty of people, but sounds drifted in from the antechamber, so he knew Gwen and Morgana would enter soon. He took the moment alone to look around. The same furniture had been in this room for years, but Morgana sometimes changed what odds and ends decorated them. Some of her jewels were laid out on the vanity. They weren't her most expensive, but they would still have cost a year's pay for Merlin. Probably.

The usual blue curtains had been switched for red, with deep red embroidery. There was a burnt orange cloth over the small table in the room, with a vase of flowers in the center. The bed, too, had burnt orange sheets. Were the blue sheets and curtains out to wash or was there a special reason for the change?

There was a deep purple dress laid out on the bed. Just as Merlin touched its sleeve, Gwen came in from the antechamber. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, but before she could do more than open her mouth, Morgana entered behind her. Wearing nothing but a towel.

"Oh." Merlin flipped around to face the wall, his cheeks hot.

"Good afternoon, Merlin," Morgana greeted, as if she always met with him while completely naked. "Gwen, help me with this?"

Merlin closed his eyes when he heard the towel hit the floor, even though he couldn't see anything anyway. He kept them closed while Gwen helped Morgana into her under clothes and then the dress.

"You can turn around now," Morgana announced. "I'm not certain why you bothered anyway. It's not like you fancy me at all."

"It's still not right to look," Merlin said as he turned.

Gwen was brushing Morgana's hair and braiding it down her back while Morgana slipped on a pair of dangling earrings. "I suppose that is true, and you're very courteous," Morgana said. She smirked at him. "I bet you even closed your eyes, didn't you?"

"No." Merlin cursed his blushing cheeks giving him away and making Morgana's smile widen. "Here, from Gaius."

Morgana frowned at the bottle he handed her. With a sigh, she set it on the vanity next to her jewels and makeup. "At my age, one would think I could control my own visions without the aid of a sleeping draught." Before Merlin could respond, she inhaled deeply and smiled at him. "Thank you for bringing this, as always, Merlin."

Merlin gave a half bow. "Right. Um. You changed the curtains," he noted, waving lamely at them.

Again, Morgana frowned. When she didn't answer, Gwen spoke up. "Duke Orkney is coming for a visit." She finished the braid and stepped back, sharing a smile with Morgana before turning to Merlin. "He's the king's brother-in-law, you know?"

Merlin tilted his head curiously. "What does that have to do with the curtains?"

Sighing, Morgana said, "They're the colors of his family crest. By tomorrow evening, every window in the castle will have red curtains. It's going to feel like a slaughter house until he leaves."

Merlin nodded solemnly in agreement, though he thought the new curtains looked bright and fierce – a good match for Morgana's personality, and nothing at all like blood.

"What's he coming for, anyway?" Merlin asked. It wasn't like there was a festival going on or anything. Why was the king's brother-in-law visiting?

Huffing, Morgana crossed her arms. "That's the aggravating part. He didn't say. I'm meant to simply drop everything and entertain him because he's the king's brother." She sighed and rubbed her temples. "I'm sorry. There's a lot to do to prepare for the visit. Maybe another time would be better. Tomorrow?"

Merlin knew a dismissal when he heard one. He bowed his goodbye and then Gwen escorted him out.

All the way back to Gaius' shop, Merlin wondered. Really, what reason did the Duke have for visiting? Did he want to marry Morgana off to one of his sons, if he had any? Was he coming on business from the king himself? Morgana had been in charge of Ealdor since her parents died when she was sixteen, and she had done a fantastic job too. Maybe he was coming with some sort of gift for her services?

Well, they could only hope whatever news the Duke brought with him would be good. If he was coming to replace Morgana, or with some other bad news, the entire city would be worse off for it.

…

…

'Tomorrow' saw Merlin back at the castle. In one of the sitting rooms. Watching Morgana get fitted for a dress.

"This isn't any more okay than you in a towel," Merlin complained. He was lying on a chaise lounge with his arm thrown over his eyes while Gwen and another seamstress pinned fabric all around Morgana's body.

"Of course it is. This time I'm fully clothed," Morgana insisted, lifting her arms so Gwen could check the fit there as well.

Barely, Merlin thought. When he had first walked in, the seamstress had nearly had a stroke and tried to shove him back out. The fabric of the dress had been hanging so low on Morgana's chest that he could almost see the entirety of both of her breasts.

"I should have both of you fitted for outfits too," Morgana said, apropos of nothing.

"Both of…?" Gwen trailed off, focusing more on her pins than on Morgana's words.

Morgana waved between her and Merlin, knocking Gwen's hands away in the process. She gave an apologetic look but only said, "You and Merlin, obviously. You're the only two real friends I've got, and heaven knows I have too much money to spend on myself. It all goes to waste."

"No it doesn't," Gwen protested, forcing Morgana's arm back into position so she could keep working. The seamstress was still working around her legs. "You use a lot of it to help the city. Clothing, food, and toys for the orphanage. Medical bills paid as if by magic. Roads and bridges kept in working order. Not to mention the food you purchase during every festival."

"Half of that is my job as Duchess. The other half doesn't cost nearly as much as you might think." Morgana frowned. "Even after paying taxes to the king – that lay about in Camelot – I still have chests of gold and other coins sealed up in the vaults." She gave Gwen her best puppy eyes. "Let me do this for you, Gwen. Just one or two nice dresses? Hm?"

Never in their lives had Gwen been able to resist Morgana's pleading eyes. Now was no different. Within seconds she had caved.

"Oh alright. Fine. If you insist."

Instantly, Morgana brightened. "Wonderful. And you too, right, Merlin?"

"No dresses for me, thanks," he quipped easily from his spot by the wall. He still wasn't looking.

"But you would look so lovely in a gown. Maybe a nice blue—"

Morgana's tease was cut off by a knock at the door. She ushered whomever it was inside, and in walked her herald. "Duke Orkney has arrived, milady."

All the festivity of the room vanished instantly.

"Right." Morgana looked down at herself, half full of pins and needles and draping fabric. She cast her eyes about the room. "I just need to—Merlin!"

He jumped up at her sudden volume and stood at attention. "Yes, my lady?"

She smiled at his respectful act and then motioned to herself. "I need to go meet with a prig. Get this fitted for me?"

Merlin gaped at her. "Get that—What?"

She was already pulling the gown off, with help from Gwen and the seamstress. Merlin and the herald both turned away. "You know what I mean. I need this dress finished as soon as possible, so, get it done."

It was several minutes before Morgana was properly outfitted to meet the Duke, but as soon as the door shut behind her, Gwen grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and frog marched him into place to be fitted. She gave him an expectant look. He lifted his eyebrows and hoped his face clearly told her how crazy this was. She crossed her arms. He sighed, giving up.

Taking a deep breath, Merlin reached for the magic within himself. It was as easy as breathing. Most witches and wizards had to use spells to do magic. Morgana's dreams came to her unbidden, but even she needed a spell to light a candle or levitate an object.

Merlin wasn't like most magic users. When he let out his breath, he instantly felt the change. His face lost a bit of its masculinity. His shoulders rounded more. His waist drew in and his hips pushed out. Within a few moments, Merlin's body shape had become definitively feminine.

The seamstress made the sign of a god, her eyes blown wide, as if she wasn't sure if she should be awed or frightened. Gwen gave a short burst of clapping.

"It's amazing. I forget what you look like when you do that."

And then she started pulling his clothes off. Merlin squeaked and tried to get away, but it was no use. Gwen manhandled him into lady's underclothes and then into the dress that still needed pinning.

It wasn't that Merlin could transform himself into Morgana. That would be _really_ impressive. What he could do was temporarily alter his gender. It just so happened that, when he did this, his body proportions were close to Morgana's own. That was possibly because Morgana had tricked him into doing it the first time for just this kind of situation – a dress fitting – so his magic had always imitated her body when changing his own. And it wasn't like being a girl bothered Merlin. Not really. He just really didn't like people poking and prodding at him when he was as naked as the day he was born.

Okay, so he was wearing a dress. He was still being poked and prodded, so it still counted.

"This is so embarrassing," Merlin muttered when Gwen adjusted the fall of the dress around his cleavage. He tilted his face away, looking at the ceiling instead.

Gwen tutted. "You've never said you don't want to," she reminded him, then cast him a smile. "Also, you look very pretty, Merlin."

"You know, just because I fancy men doesn't mean I'm a woman." Still, at least someone thought he was attractive in _some_ gender. He just wished men found him attractive in his real one, not when he was posing as someone else.

Awhile later, after Merlin had released the spell and put his own clothes back on, Morgana came back looking white as a ghost. Gwen hurried to get her to a seat and a cup of water. When they asked her what was wrong, she just shook her head.

After finishing her drink, Morgana managed. "The prince is coming." She looked up at her two friends. "Lord Agravaine said Arthur Pendragon himself is arriving in a few days." Morgana shook her head. "He said Arthur wants to…marry me."

…

…

Morgana as queen of Albion.

Ealdor without Morgana in the castle.

It was impossible to imagine either.

Standing in the blacksmith's shop, Merlin was lost in his thoughts. Would Morgana be happy as queen? Merlin highly doubted it. She kept the Ealdor castle staffed with the bare minimum of people. Not in the upkeep of the castle itself, but in people who had to interact with her. Bureaucracy was something she hated. She hated being surrounded by people who only wanted her for what she could do for them.

"Merlin?"

Blinking back to the present, Merlin found Tom the blacksmith holding a pair of door hinges out to him. "Oh." He quickly accepted the items and put them in his pocket. At the same time, he pulled out his purse. "Thank you, and…here."

Tom accepted the coins – far too many for a pair of door hinges – and hummed. "Another payment for the dagger?" Merlin nodded. "One more payment like this and this birthday present will be paid off. But don't worry about that until after it's finished. I'd hate to have you not like the product after paying so much for it."

Merlin smiled. "If you're making it, then I don't doubt it will be perfect."

Tom blushed and put the money away. "Anyway, what's bothering you?" Merlin made a curious sound and Tom waved at him effusively. "You usually ask if Lancelot is around and the two of you chat nonstop while I work. Today you're quiet and keep losing focus!"

"Oh." Merlin shrugged. "I heard something surprising today. I can't really talk about it," he said when he saw Tom's intrigued expression. Tom deflated. "Where is Lancelot, by the way?"

Tom motioned above his head as if Lancelot were floating about like a ghost. "You know him. Practicing with the swords." He grinned. "It works as good advertisement for the shop though, so I don't mind."

Better him than Merlin. When they were younger, Merlin used to be dragged in by both Gwen and Lancelot to help demo the swords. Several injuries had resulted – one that had left a scar on Merlin's arm near his left elbow.

Actually, Morgana gave him that scar. She had persuaded her father into letting her practice swordsmanship and she had come down to buy a sword. Merlin had been around to play with Gwen and, through a series of events, had been drawn in to a practice match with Morgana – since they were both beginners. Except, even as a child, Morgana was absolutely ruthless.

What would Ealdor be like without her around?

And would she still be around for her birthday? Could Merlin give her the dagger Tom was crafting for her before she left?

…

…

When Merlin got back to Gaius' shop later that afternoon, the old man was just finishing up a sale to three men. Even from behind, Merlin could tell they were not from Ealdor because he didn't recognize them. When they turned to leave he noticed that they were the same three men from the tavern that he had considered challenging to a game.

If he had won their coin, they might have wanted to fight him to get it back, so it was actually for the best that Will made him scamper off when he did. Gaius hated fighting in the physician shop.

Merlin nodded to the men as they left, then walked over and placed the door hinges on the counter. "Hinges from Tom. I'll fix the back door before dinner."

Gaius hummed like he wasn't actually paying attention, his eyes still on the door where the men had left. "Merlin, be careful of those men."

"Hm? Why?"

A shake of his head. "It's probably nothing. They asked for my strongest sleep draught, saying they haven't been able to sleep right since arriving in town."

That got a huff of laughter from Merlin. "They hardly looked tired." The men had looked appreciatively muscled, but not overly so, and ready for a day of work building a house or plowing a field.

"Exactly." Gaius sighed. "But, who am I to judge? Maybe one of them really can't sleep well. And what harm could they do with a sleeping draught? It would put them to sleep, not help in a fight or a robbery." He shook his head again. "I'm probably over thinking it."

Merlin gave a sad sigh of his own. "That's what happens when you get old."

Gaius glared at him, and his voice was like hard stone. "Go fix the door."

Nodding excessively, Merlin moved to do just that.

…

…

Two days later, Merlin went to the baker's shop. It was one of his favorite places in Ealdor because of the constant smell of baking bread. There were shelves upon shelves of bread of different kinds, in different shapes, as well as pastries of various shapes and flavors. To the side of the room was a staircase that led up to where the baker's family lived above the shop.

"Welcome! I'll l be with you in a moment!" a woman called from somewhere out of sight at the same time as a younger man walked down the stairs tying an apron on.

Will grinned at the sight of Merlin. "No rush, mum! It's just Merlin," he said back to the woman. "Whatcha in for?"

Merlin pointed at a rack of rolls. "Need some rolls for dinner tonight."

Shaking his head, Will started grabbing four rolls from the shelf. "Boring as ever." He put the rolls in a bag. "Are you ever going to buy a pastry?"

Handing him the money for the rolls, Merlin said, "Gaius has pretty set tastes. Plain bread is all he ever asks for."

Will wrapped an arm around Merlin's neck. "Yet another reason to get a lover, mate. Someone who actually likes my mum's baking."

"I know you aren't implying people don't like my baking, William." The woman who entered the room then was plump and perfect, with curly brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She was of a height with her son, though, and had no problem smacking him on the shoulder when he deserved it.

"Course not," Will assured her.

He made to hand Merlin the bag but his mom grabbed it first. She checked inside and gave a gasp of horror. "Four rolls?!" In a flash, she had grabbed two more and added them to the bag. "Family always gets extra."

"What family? It's just us," Will complained.

Laughing quietly, Merlin accepted the now overstuffed bag. "Thank you. I'll make you whatever medicine you need."

"Hey, don't kill my mum, alright?" Will teased, elbowing Merlin in the ribs.

That earned him a smack on the shoulder from his mom, which made Merlin stick his tongue out at Will. Will stuck his tongue out in return, but his mom saw and called him childish. Then Merlin headed out to get the bread back to Gaius before it got too late.

Outside, there was a group of kids kicking a leather ball around and laughing. One of the kids kicked the ball hard enough that it bounced right passed the kid they kicked it too and rolled across the street. The second kid turned to run after the ball just as a horse and rider came barreling around the corner and down the street.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold as he flicked his hand out toward the child and the ball. A gust of wind blew the ball back toward the children, strong enough to knock the running kid over onto their butt. Sadly, it also kicked up a lot of dirt and startled the running horse.

The horse stopped in its tracks, rearing up and neighing in fright. The rider cried out as he was thrown from the saddle. Merlin winced at the crash of armor as he hit the ground.

"Shit. Sorry, are you okay?" he asked, hurrying over to the blonde man and reaching to help him up. "It's just, you would've run right over that little—"

"You absolute imbecile!" the man snapped, jerking out of Merlin's hold and struggling to his feet. He hopped on one foot for a moment before standing tall – probably sprained his ankle. The glare on his face was the fiercest Merlin had seen in a long while. "Were you _trying_ to kill me?!"

All care for the man's injuries vanished in the face of rising ire. "Maybe if you weren't racing down the main road so fast, you wouldn't have gotten thrown at all."

"I'll ride how I like, thank you!"

Nobles.

Merlin crossed his arms, the bag of rolls still gripped in one hand. "Well then you're an arrogant sod. Your life isn't the only one that matters, you know."

"What?!" the man shouted, sounding equally livid and surprised to be spoken back to. "Do you always speak to your betters this way?"

Shaking his head, Merlin said, "No. The Lady Morgana deserves every respect. As does the blacksmith and the baker and the doctor. But pigheaded brutes are hardly my betters."

The blond man – and gosh, did he have to be so handsome? Golden hair and bright blue eyes and a strong jaw and muscles visible wherever armor didn't hem him in. Ugh – gaped at Merlin. His mouth opened and shut like a fish, but no sound came out.

He had just managed, "P-pigheaded—" when an entourage of knights came riding around the corner and formed a semicircle around the fallen rider. One of them dismounted and grabbed the reins of the first man's horse, pulling it back from where it was nosing around in the plants outside of a shop.

"Your Highness, you should not run off so fast, even if it was a race," said a man with dark blond hair and a beard. "You know Sir Gwaine was simply egging you on."

"But he fell fer it so easy! It's hardly my fault," chimed a man with dark hair, also with a beard. He was easily as attractive as the golden haired man Merlin had berated.

The man they called 'Your Highness' – which meant – which meant… Oh gods. The prince.

Arthur Pendragon shook his head and accepted his horse reigns again. "Egging or not, I think I proved correct in this instance."

"By fallin off yer horse?" Sir Gwaine asked.

The first knight to speak shook his head. "We really should not delay. We were expected at the castle hours ago."

Nodding, Arthur remounted his horse. "You're right." He cast a glance to the children standing on one side of the road, then to Merlin, before kicking his horse into an easy walk. "Onward, then."

What expression had he worn when looking at Merlin? Had he been angry? Furious? _Murderous?_ What happened to people who argued with princes? Who called them names? Merlin had said Arthur wasn't his better!

As the knights road off behind the prince, the children chased the horses, cheering and clapping. It made the knights, and other adults on the street, smile, but Merlin hardly noticed.

…

…

"If anyone comes asking about me tonight, I died testing a potion, or I drowned in the well, or I got eaten by wolves."

Gaius rolled his eyes. "There are no wolves in Albion, Merlin. And no one is coming for you."

Merlin held up a soapy spoon, brandishing it at Gaius like a sword. "You don't know that. All it would take was him describing me to anyone – heck, even Morgana – and they'd tell him 'Oh yeah, that's Merlin, the physician's assistant. He's a strange one. And a sorcerer!' and then we'll have armored knights banging down the door to arrest me for—for—for treason or something!" Soap flew off the spoon as he waved it around wildly.

Sighing, Gaius took the spoon from Merlin and rinsed it off, then dried it and set it aside. "Hard as it is to believe, Merlin, people in Ealdor do like you. They wouldn't sell you out to be arrested." A little smile quirked the corners of his lips. "And I hardly think the prince will arrest you for treason, anyhow. At most, you'll spend a day or two in the stocks."

The stocks? Morgana rarely ever put someone in the stocks. Mostly, the townsfolk followed the rules pretty well, so they were an outdated and rare punishment. Getting put in the stocks would be mortifying.

Would people actually throw rotten fruit at him? Or worse – fresh, hard fruit?

Merlin shivered. Rolling his eyes at Merlin's dramatic antics, Gaius opened his mouth—but then a frantic pounding sounded at the door. The two men glanced at each other with wide eyes. Had someone really come to arrest him?!

Gaius waved Merlin into the back room as he headed for the door. From around the corner, Merlin watched Gaius put his ear near the door. "Terribly sorry. We're closed for the night."

"I know it's late, I'm sorry, but I really must speak with Merlin, Gaius!" came the harried whisper-shout in return.

That was no knight from Camelot. That was Gwen! Merlin stopped hiding as Gaius let Gwen inside. Nothing about Gwen's physical appearance said anything was wrong, but her expression was manic. Wide eyes and the deepest frown Merlin had ever seen her wear.

"Gwen? What's wrong?" Merlin asked.

Shaking her head, Gwen hurried over and grabbed Merlin by the arm. "Upstairs. Quick." And she dragged him past a bemused looking Gaius, up the stairs, and into his bedroom, where she promptly locked the door.

Mystified, Merlin said, "You know, if it wasn't clear that I was entirely un-interested, Gaius might suspect us of doing something untoward up here."

Gwen paced to the window and back, her hands twisting around each other. It was rare to see her so frazzled. As the main handmaiden of the Duchess of Ealdor, she had to maintain control of herself in many stressful situations.

"Gwen, what's wrong?" Merlin asked, his voice as serious as if it were Gwen the knights were after instead of himself. Oh. Was that it? Was she here to warn Merlin about the knights?

"Oh Merlin, I don't know—," Gwen began, then cut herself off. She made another turn of the room. "We've waylaid the prince with guard practice, a tour, but gods above, I don't know what else to do to occupy him. He's not going to buy our excuses much longer. The sun's already set!"

Merlin grabbed Gwen by the shoulders as she went to make her umpteenth turn. "Gwen." It was forceful enough to make her look up at him. "What's. Happened."

Tears gathered in Gwen's eyes. "Morgana's gone missing."

"What?!" Merlin threw his hands up. "What do you mean Morgana's mis—" Gwen covered Merlin's mouth with a 'shhh!'

"Not so loud," she hissed. Releasing him, she said, "Elyan is prepared to spend the whole night searching for her with some of his guard, but he can't until we take care of the prince."

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean, take care of the prince? Do you need a sleeping potion or a spell to make him, I don't know, lose his wits? I'm not sure how well I can manage that, but I could try, I guess."

Gwen shook her head. "No no no. We just need to…to _distract him_ for awhile." And she gave Merlin a hopeful look.

Narrowing his eyes, Merlin asked, "Okay….What exactly do you want from me?"

Did the prince mention running into Merlin today? Except if he had been angry about that, then Gwen would never have asked Merlin to go near him.

Taking Merlin's hands in her own, Gwen gave him her biggest, most pleading eyes. They were almost as good as Morgana's. "That spell? The one where you become a girl?" Merlin tried to jerk his hands away but she held on tight. "It's only for a short time, Merlin, I promise. Just—Just long enough for Elyan to find Morgana. A night and a day at most. Please?"

Another rough tug and his hands came loose, allowing Merlin to step away from his friend, though it made her look about to burst into tears.

"No! Gwen, are you mad? Impersonating a noble is a serious crime!" The prince probably already wanted to have him killed for that stunt in the market, and now Gwen wanted him to _trick a royal_?!

Gwen put her hands together like she was praying. "Morgana will settle everything once she's back. I promise. You know her. She would never let you come to harm because of her."

"Why do I need to impersonate her, though? Why not just tell the prince and have him help you find her?"

Shaking her head, Gwen explained, "We can't do that. We can't."

"Why not?" Merlin pressed.

"Ever since the Duke died, Morgana's been…she's refused every invitation to go to the capital, to visit with the king. She's even written refusals to his invitations. It's no secret that she…that she doesn't approve of how he runs things."

King Uther did make questionable decisions sometimes, as far as Merlin knew it. New laws had been passed on who doctors were and were not allowed to treat – not that Gaius ever listened to them. The cost of grain kept going up. There were so many rules about what foreign nations could and could not be visited, and when, and how, that Merlin was surprised anyone travelled outside of Albion except on official, political business. And while he had not made magic illegal to practice, sorcerers were all but nonexistent in the capital, and employers were allowed to discriminate against magic users – firing loyal, long time employees and refusing to do business with magic using customers and clients.

That was the part Morgana took offense to. That was why she refused his invitations. How could she – a well known sorceress – fraternize with a man who looked down upon so many of his subjects, for something they could not choose any more than they could choose their parents? She had given many rants on the subject over the years, even before she became the Duchess Ealdor.

"If the prince hears that she's disappeared just before he was set to arrive…he might think she's in open dispute against him. He could take offense. He could revoke her title, or have her arrested and killed for treason."

"Treason?!" Merlin yelped, then slapped a hand over his own mouth.

It sounded laughable, but being charged for treason was always a possibility. If King Uther Pendragon thought Morgana was using her position as Duchess Ealdor to spread her distaste for Uther among the people of Ealdor…If he learned of any evidence that suggested she could be plotting against him…

Merlin covered his face. "Where did she go anyway? What do you mean 'missing'?"

"When I went to wake her this morning, she wasn't there. I thought, you know, she's been so stressed with the Duke's visit, and the prince arriving soon…I honestly thought maybe she had gone riding to clear her head. But none of the horses were gone, and we couldn't find her anywhere. And then the prince arrived. He already seemed so worked up, so Elyan told him Morgana was out for a ride and would return soon and took command. But we don't know where she is at all. She didn't take any food or supplies. But on foot, she couldn't have gotten far, so Elyan is sure to find her soon. Figure out why she ran away. Convince her to come back. We just need…We just need time."

Morgana was missing. She had run away, and Merlin thought he knew why she would. She didn't want to be queen. She didn't want to marry Prince Arthur.

Still, running away wasn't Morgana's style. And without any supplies? Morgana wasn't that stupid. No, Morgana had not run away. Someone must have secreted her away, kidnapped her, something. And the only people who would have reason to do so would be those related to the prince and his riding party. Everything was normal until they showed up.

"Make sure Elyan uses as many guards as he can without being suspicious," Merlin said in monotone. "He has to find her quick."

Gwen put her hands to her mouth. "Does that mean you'll—"

A nod. "For Morgana." His chest felt tight and his stomach turned. He might very well lose his head for this. "I think she's in real trouble."

"I don't want to think about it, but you're probably right," Gwen admitted quietly, crossing her arms over her stomach. "But the sooner you can distract Prince Arthur, the sooner Elyan can start searching."

Sighing, Merlin ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "Fine, then. Alright. Let's…Let's do this. Before I come to my senses and say no."

…

…

Elyan stepped quickly into Morgana's chambers, shutting and locking the door behind him. Immediately upon spotting Merlin, he froze, eyes widening. Then he gave a low whistle.

"By all the gods," he murmured. "You really do look like her."

Merlin shook his head, trying to flip the waves of his hair over his shoulder without dislodging Gwen's hands from where she was adjusting his dress. "Shut up." His voice was pitched higher than his usual baritone as well, and that was still surprising to him. He didn't normally talk much in this form, just let people dress him up.

Shaking his head, Elyan walked closer. "No, I'm serious." He tilted his head side to side. "A little sturdier in the jaw…maybe a few shades more masculine overall, but really. If I didn't know the both of you, I might even think you were her." He waved at Merlin's head. "The hair is new."

Whenever Merlin changed his body, his hair had always remained its normal length. After all, hair length had nothing to do with gender. Now, Merlin had long black locks falling over his shoulders and about his arms.

He hated it.

"Morgana doesn't have short hair," Gwen noted, standing up straight, finally finished tying Merlin in. She lightly flipped a curl of hair. "I think the wig is perfect, don't you?"

Elyan nodded. "The whole look is perfect. I don't think the prince will suspect a thing."

Thus approved by the head of Morgana's guard, Merlin and Gwen made their way through the castle toward the hall of portraits, where Elyan said the prince was waiting. Meanwhile, Elyan hurried off to rouse his men and begin the search.

Outside the doors to the hall of portraits, Gwen stopped them to fuss one more time with Merlin's hair and the pull of the fabric around his chest – thankfully fully covered. He smacked her hands away.

"You're making me nervous."

She held up her hands. "Sorry. I'm just so—well—nervous."

They shared an anxious smile, then Merlin took a deep breath and drew himself up tall. He imagined Morgana walking in and taking command of any situation. She was proper. She was noble. She was high class. He nodded at Gwen and she opened the door to the hall.

Arthur Pendragon was staring at a small portrait of Morgana as a child, back before her father died. She was standing next to a miniature horse and holding a wooden shield, like an amour-less knight preparing to mount. Her hair – long even back then – was pulled back into a tight ponytail and braided, lying prominently over her shoulder. She looked like a warrior. Well, as much as an eight-year-old could.

One would think that the prince would have turned around upon hearing someone enter the room, but he did not. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his blonde hair turned gold in the fading light of sunset coming through the windows high in the ceiling. He wore a red tunic under a brown leather jacket and dark trousers, and even from behind he was handsome.

Merlin kind of hated him for it.

Stopping a respectable distance away, Merlin waited. And waited. And waited. Rolling his eyes, he cleared his throat.

"Did you know that a prince goes through extensive schooling and training his entire life?" the prince asked, still not turning around. "I have been trained in weaponry and combat almost from birth so that no enemy can hope to beat me. I have read nearly every book in the castle library. I have endured hours of critiques on my oration and my presentation and my _manners_."

"That sounds quite tedious, Your Highness," Merlin intoned, trying to sound sympathetic. What exactly was the prince getting at with this speech?

"Not as tedious as being made to wait hours upon hours to have a proper introduction with a minor noble." Arthur turned, fixing Merlin with an unimpressed glare. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Merlin inclined his head. "Prince Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Albion. Son of King Uther Pendragon." And a prat.

"Yet when you heard I was arriving, you decided to ride off into the countryside and leave me waiting here without a proper welcome?" Arthur asked, his words biting.

Still staring at the floor, Merlin said, "My apologies. The country around Ealdor is so breathtaking that I forgot the time."

The prince shifted from foot to foot and crossed his arms. Still scowling, he said, "I heard so many wonderful things about the Duchess Ealdor and how she keeps her city. Yet when we meet, I find you are as empty headed as any pubescent girl begging to be married."

Anger flashed hot and quick through Merlin. "You're the one begging to be married."

The words came out harsher than Merlin expected, and he cringed inwardly. Across from him, Arthur's mouth hung open in shock.

"_Excuse_ me?" he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

Well, what was done was done. Morgana wasn't the type of woman to let words like that slide anyway. Merlin lifted his eyes to meet the prince's. "You have no right to speak ill of women, told that their only worth is through their husbands, when I know that you yourself are seeking marriage. Sire," he tacked on the end, as if an afterthought.

The prince let out a surprised huff. He looked like he didn't know whether to be amused or insulted. "You can't speak to me like that."

Merlin held himself as tall as he could and stared at Arthur with all the determination he could muster. "I'll speak to you the way you deserve. Based on your behavior so far, you're no better than the street sweeper."

That shocked a laugh out of the prince, whose expression was so bewildered that Merlin almost smiled himself. "What is it with people in this city? First that commoner with the ball and now you. Do all citizens in Ealdor talk to royalty this way? Did you teach them that?"

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe they picked it up watching me treat them like people worthy of respect, instead of dirt on my shoes."

The prince regarded Merlin with an analytical gaze, like he was reorganizing everything he knew about Morgana to fit a new mold. In the silence, Merlin wondered if he had actually done something wrong. Morgana was of the nobility, it was true, but this was the prince. Could Morgana be arrested for being rude to the prince? He did his best to hide his anxiety, clasping his hands low before him but not lowering his eyes.

After a long while, the prince gave a nod and turned away, his movement as graceful as water in a stream. He waved for Merlin to follow him before beginning to walk down the hall.

"My Lady, your first impression was abominable," he said as they passed a giant portrait of Morgana's father dressed in his best robes.

_Yours was pretty bad yourself_, Merlin thought, but held his tongue.

"But you have a barbed tongue and quick wit," Arthur continued, passing a portrait of Morgana's grandfather, grandmother, mother, and father. That painting had been made at their old home and moved to this castle with the family when they were given charge of Ealdor.

"I'm not sure if you think that's good or not," Merlin admitted.

The prince stopped and spun to face Merlin in one fluid motion, startling Merlin into stepping back and nearly tripping over his own feet. Catching Merlin off guard seemed to please him. "I think it means my visit will be very interesting. Now, you kept me waiting all afternoon and I am starving. It's well past supper. Let's eat."

…

…

Supper was a fun affair.

Merlin entered and sat down with no issues. The prince even pulled his chair out for him. Then a servant came in bearing the soup course. She kept her eyes down as she walked, but lifted her gaze to look at her mistress as she set it down. There was a moment where she was clearly confused, her eyes narrowing and her head tilting ever so slightly to the side. Merlin did his best to offer a smile, but that just seemed to cement for her the fact that this was _not_ Morgana she was looking at.

The soup bowl clattered the last half inch to the table. It was enough to make the prince jolt in his seat but not enough to spill the soup, thank goodness.

The servant threw her hands over her mouth, but before she could say or do anything more, Gwen hurried up and took her by the arms. "Marlene, come on. Let's go."

Merlin watched them go. They probably should have told _some _people that Merlin would be impersonating Morgana, come to think of it. But it would be hard to know who to trust and who might have been involved with Morgana disappearing. Still, hopefully Gwen would explain the situation to a few of the servants, so people didn't scream or panic when they realized Merlin wasn't Morgana.

Arthur was watching him when he turned back to the food. "She…Her father isn't doing well, so sometimes she gets…distracted. Usually she's very good at her job."

Nodding, Arthur tucked into his soup. And what a soup it was. Gaius was not a poor man by any means – not as the city's official physician and with the Duchess herself as a client – but he was not a chef. His food tended to be bland or medicinal in nature, or at least very simple. This soup had carrots, parsnips, onions, turnips, leeks, and cabbage, all of it thickened with grains. There were herbs like sage, thyme, and rosemary. Merlin even tasted wine! Wine in a soup!

When the prince was done with his soup, the bowls were removed and replaced with the second course: roast beef. It was tender and juicy, and must have been marinated in more wine. Cloves and ginger and pepper assaulted his taste buds.

The hardest part of pretending to be a duchess might just be acting like every meal wasn't the best thing he had ever tasted.

"I apologize for my behavior earlier."

Arthur's voice crashed through the cloud of flavor Merlin was experiencing, bringing him back to the situation at hand. Him, impersonating a duchess. The prince was speaking to him as he speared his meat and ate, but never spoke with his mouth full. Such manners.

"I should have known that posturing would get me nowhere – not with another member of the nobility." He flashed Merlin a grin and Merlin's heart stuttered. Unfair. "I suppose I was trying to reassert myself after taking a tumble from my horse this afternoon."

Was that what he was calling it? Would he not demand that Morgana find the peasant and have him thrown in jail or killed?

After a long pause, Merlin hazarded, "I'm sure even the best horsemen fall from their saddles from time to time."

The prince shook his head. "I'm sure they do. But not because of a little gust of wind." He rolled his left shoulder. "It was horrendously embarrassing."

The snort of laughter escaped Merlin before he could help it. He threw a hand up to cover his mouth, as if that would silence a sound he had already made, when Arthur lifted an eyebrow at him.

"You would laugh at your prince?" he asked. Merlin shook his head, but clearly he didn't look contrite enough. "You would laugh at my wounded pride?"

It was just teasing enough for Merlin to reply, "Oh I'm sure your pride was the worst off of all your injuries." Then he remembered how the prince had hopped on one foot after the fall. "Is your ankle alright?"

Arthur's eyebrows lifted, surprised at the question. He bounced his leg gently under the table. "Yes…," he began slowly. "Yes, it'll be fine. How did you know I injured it?"

Crap. Merlin bought himself time to think by taking a bite of the roast. It was such a good roast. Why did Gaius' meats always come out so gamey? He was still under the prince's watchful, curious gaze when he swallowed.

"You've been favoring your left foot since we met in the Hall of Portraits," Merlin said.

To be honest, Arthur had been as graceful as a cat the whole time. It was true that he was favoring that foot though. He was just very good at making it look like nothing was wrong. Did that kind of control come from being a prince?

Said prince looked duly impressed. "You have a sharp eye, Lady Morgana."

This Arthur was different than the Arthur Merlin had met in the street that afternoon, and Merlin wasn't sure how to handle him. When he wasn't yelling and posturing, Arthur actually seemed…nice. He wasn't looking down on Morgana or blaming anyone for his own behavior that afternoon. He didn't act like he deserved more or less than Morgana. In fact, though he was royalty and she was but a duchess, Merlin sat in Morgana's seat at the head of the table and Prince Arthur sat in the chair to her right, like a guest rather than a lord.

It wasn't until the pastries and pies were brought out that Arthur cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and spoke seriously.

"What you said in the Hall of Portraits, about marriage—," he began, and Merlin paused with a bite of marzipan just before his lips. "You were right, in a sense."

If talk was turning to marriage, Merlin might have to accept or deny the prince on Morgana's behalf. The idea made his stomach turn and he quickly shoved the marzipan into his mouth before he lost his appetite entirely. The almond and honey practically melted on his tongue. He wished he could enjoy it more.

Arthur had not touched the desserts. "This is very confidential and you must never speak of it outside of us two, but my father…His health is not at its best." He held up a hand for silence when Merlin opened his mouth. "He's not dying, no. I'm certain the king will live for many years to come. But it has made him more and more aware that I am…unattached."

"So your father is pushing you to get married."

A nod. "Or rather, he wants me to ensure the future of this kingdom. It would be bad form for Albion to fall into civil war after I die because I left no one to rule after me. After all, we just finished re-uniting the warring factions only thirty years ago."

Civil war. Is that what Morgana would be doing by marrying the prince? Stopping a war? Could Merlin turn the prince down, knowing that there could be war within his lifetime if he did? Merlin had known Morgana for over fifteen years and never heard of her making such world changing decisions before. Merlin didn't want to have to make one for her.

Folding his hands before him on the table, Arthur met Merlin's eyes with a calm expression. "I am here to see how the Duchess Ealdor runs her city. How do you treat the people? Who are you as a person? What insight might be gained for the future of this kingdom with your help?"

He held out his hand to Merlin.

"Will you assist me with this? Show me your ways?"

Well, it wasn't a marriage proposal. That was a small mercy. And Merlin had been around Morgana long enough to know how to do most of the basic things she did – if not the council meetings and more detailed work.

He took Arthur's hand. "I think I can do that, Your Highness."

…

…

Being away from the shop didn't stop Merlin from waking with the sun, even with the curtains closed to block out the light. He crawled out of Morgana's infinitely-too-comfortable bed and over to her wash stand. Pouring water from the pitcher into the basin, he took his time washing his face, neck, and arms. The magic from yesterday left a tingly feeling on his skin. He wasn't tired, per se, but there was a definite feeling that he had exercised his magical muscles, holding the gender changing spell for over three hours.

As payment, Morgana should give him full use of her tub and bath oils.

Except, if Morgana had been found in the night, would someone not have come to fetch him? He was sleeping in her bed after all. Merlin moved to the window and parted the curtain just enough to see through, but not enough that someone would be able to see him.

The courtyard outside the window wasn't busy. A guard moved through it on patrol, and two of the prince's knights stood guard near the inner gate, but that was it. No one looked agitated or worried. No alarms had been sounded in the night, and no one had barged into the bed chambers looking for Merlin or Morgana.

It was a normal, calm morning in Ealdor.

Morgana was still missing.

Merlin watched the slow activity in the courtyard as the sun rose higher and higher, casting white light over the dark stone of the fortress, as servants began moving about in their daily routines. Some cast their eyes toward Morgana's windows – no doubt they had heard of Merlin attending dinner last night and were curious. He stayed there until the doors to the chambers opened, admitting Gwen with breakfast.

She set the table in the time it took Merlin to cross the room, and then they both sat down to eat. Thankfully it was nothing extravagant – just bread and cheese.

"No sign of Morgana?" Merlin asked as he tore a small hunk off the bread and popped it into his mouth.

Gwen sighed. She too tore pieces from her bread, but they made a pile on the tray rather than being eaten. "No. Elyan returned this morning with nothing to report. They checked the inns and the taverns. She wasn't there. And it's not like she has friends in town to stay with, other than you and me."

"Did they look everywhere in the castle?" Merlin poured himself a cup of water from the jug Gwen had brought. He downed the entire cup in one go and immediately poured himself another.

"No," Gwen said, her eyes on her bread mound. "He wants to do that today, but you'll have to keep the prince occupied elsewhere while they search."

Keep the prince occupied elsewhere? Merlin hummed around a piece of cheese. "He asked me to show him how Duchess Ealdor runs the city. I could take him on a tour?" He grimaced. "I'll have to hide my face a bit though. People would realize I wasn't Morgana quick enough. I may become a woman, but I'm not _actually_ Morgana."

Another sigh. "Sounds like a plan, then. I'll let Elyan know." She lifted her eyes to his. "Can you hold the spell all day?"

Merlin swallowed the cheese so quickly he nearly choked. "Uh. I don't know." He took a moment to think about it. He wasn't tired from yesterday, no, but he had never tried to hold the gender switch spell for a whole day. "Maybe in bursts? Could I get a break in the middle?"

Gwen nodded. "Of course. We'll think of something. Maybe…an afternoon rest?" She put a finger to her lips. "Does royalty take naps?"

"I can't imagine it from the prince, but you never know," Merlin said with a slight grin. He stuffed the rest of his bread into his mouth and downed another cup of water. "Alright. Let's get started. It'll take you long enough to strap me into one of Morgana's dresses as it is."

As he transformed and Gwen helped him dress in another of Morgana's gowns, and put on that infernal wig, she talked to him of a day in the life of Morgana. After breakfast, Morgana personally met with the heads of each class of servant – the cooks, the maids, the stablehands, the heralds, and all. Due to the prince's visit, however, and Gwen having a talk with each of them, Merlin wouldn't need to do this unless the prince asked about it. Morgana would practice swordsmanship, horseback riding, or meet with her councilors, eat dinner, then meet with any townsfolk that came to call at the castle in the afternoon. Her evenings were spent responding to letters, practicing magic, or studying from books. She tended to take supper in her room with Gwen rather than alone in the dining hall and then read for pleasure or played games with Gwen until it was time to sleep.

"Well, it doesn't always go so smoothly as that, but that's the basics," Gwen noted with a grunt, finishing tying Merlin's gown in place.

"Am I going to have to meet with townsfolk and councilors?" Merlin asked. "If we're trying to keep this, me, quiet, I can't be seen by too many people. They'll know I'm a fraud."

Gwen shook her head. "No. With the prince in attendance, meeting with the townspeople and council have been suspended unless an emergency arises. Everyone expects Morgana to be entertaining royalty for at least a week."

Merlin let out a relieved breath. Pretending to be Morgana around the prince and his men, who had no idea what Morgana was really like or how she ran the castle was one thing. Asking him to pretend to be her around people who would recognize her face or know when he did it wrong? No thank you. That was asking for disaster.

"What happens if Morgana isn't in the castle?" Merlin asked, his hand on the door handle. He looked over his shoulder at Gwen, the long hair partially obscuring her from his view.

Gwen stood as tall as she could, as if posture alone could hold off anxiety. "Then we extend our search to the forests around the city. If she's not there…" She hesitated, her defiant stance faltering. "If she's not there…we'll have to tell the prince the truth and enlist his help."

And hope he didn't kill Merlin for impersonating a noble. Or throwing him from his saddle.

…

…

Prince Arthur wanted to watch 'Morgana' work. Which meant Merlin had to meet with the heads of each kind of worker in the castle.

Great.

Luckily, Gwen had already talked the situation over with the heads of staff, so hopefully none of them would oust him. Merlin walked with Arthur at his shoulder down the halls of the castle, keeping his spine straight and his steps purposeful, and did his utmost to seem very duchess-like.

The head cook's name was Mary. She was older, but not as old as Gaius, with light hair streaked with silver. For years, Merlin had helped Gwen sneak extra pies from the kitchen for Morgana to eat while she studied. She had chased him down the halls more than once. She also had seen him dressed like Morgana before, when the real Morgana was trying to hide from a visiting noble and his disgusting son and she needed an alibi.

When Gwen called upon her and she stepped out of the kitchens to speak with their party, Mary's eyes lit with recognition the moment she saw Merlin. "Well then. I'll be," she let out in awe.

She kept a glint in her eyes the entire time she spoke to Merlin about the state of the castle kitchens, what was planned for meals that day, what food needed to be ordered to restock the pantry and the cold box, and how much the butcher was charging lately.

But the only time she leaned toward revealing that Merlin was not the duchess he claimed to be was at the end when she asked, "What about that friend o yers, Merlin? Crafty boy, he is. Good magician. He not coming by to steal my pies anymore, milady?"

Cheeks dusted pink, Merlin said, "Only a fool would try to steal pies from you, Mary."

She tutted, but she was smiling. "Sometimes it's fools what make life interesting. And I remember the lot o' you stealing plenty o'er the years. Usually as a team."

On their way to meet with Leander, the head of the cleaning staff, Arthur brought it up.

"Stealing pies?"

Merlin lifted his chin proudly. "We were hungry. Besides, it was just a few pies."

Arthur held up a hand in surrender. "I meant no offense. In fact, stealing from the castle kitchens is something every noble must do, or else one might suspect they were a changeling."

Merlin chuckled so suddenly and loudly that he stumbled in his walk. Gwen grabbed one of his arms and Arthur grabbed the other. He waved them off. "I'm fine, I'm fine." He narrowed his eyes at Arthur. "Don't spring jokes on me like that. I wasn't ready."

Arthur grinned, pleased as a fat cat. "Apologies, my lady."

Meeting with Leander was not nearly as entertaining as meeting with Mary. Leander was old. Very old. Older than Gaius. He had been old when Morgana's father became the lord of the castle. He was very particular about how the castle was run. From the moment he saw Merlin dressed in Morgana's clothes, using magic to appear as a woman, he gave Merlin such a stink eye that it was amazing Merlin's clothes didn't disintegrate instantly.

Leander also would not discuss the castle workings with Merlin the way Mary did. He told Merlin that the castle was being cleaned as usual, but would answer no questions regarding any of the staff he managed. Did they need anything? Was anyone doing more or less than usual? Were there any supplies the staff needed in order to do their jobs? Even Gwen could not get him to budge. Finally, Merlin sighed and waved Leander on his way.

"Well," Arthur noted once Leander was gone. "It seems not everyone on your staff is as pleasant as the cook."

Merlin cleared his throat and tugged on his hair. "He's not usually so—Well, he's…er…particular."

Arthur hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "He was also very rude to you. Whether it's because you are a woman or younger than him doesn't matter."

At least Leander bowed before he left. If he hadn't, the prince really would have started to question things. Still, it wouldn't do to let Leander get in trouble for being rude to Morgana, when he would never have acted that way with the real duchess.

"I can handle my own staff, Your Highness," Merlin assured him, his voice firm but not disrespectful. "What might seem rude to one person could be understandable from another viewpoint. Don't be so quick to judge."

Arthur tilted his head to the side and nodded, his face considering. "Wise words. I'll bear them in mind."

Next they met with Clara, in charge of the stables. Clara was a redheaded, tan, middle aged woman with enough muscle to scare Merlin on a good day, and a terrible actor. She didn't oust Merlin as a fraud, but it was plain as day that she was unsure how to behave around him. All of her statements came out as questions. She couldn't look at Merlin for more than a few seconds before she awkwardly shifted her gaze elsewhere. She repeated 'milady' every time she spoke, as if she were trying to prove by repetition alone that Merlin was a woman.

After they left her, Merlin played it off as Clara being nervous in the presence of a prince. Arthur bought it easily enough.

The rest of the heads of staff did better. They conversed with Merlin easily, though they kept their eyes lowered. This was good, however, because servants meeting their lord's and lady's eyes was seen as rude to most people. Morgana was different that way, but Merlin was glad to not have to explain that to Arthur. He didn't know how Morgana had gotten her staff so comfortable around her or why she didn't mind.

"Are there any other staff members you meet with regularly?" Arthur asked as they wandered the halls. The sun was high in the sky by then and little direct light made it through the windows they passed, but plenty of light reflected off the stone walls and grass and kept Arthur glowing.

He needed to stop that. Or else Merlin needed to stop noticing.

"The only one we haven't met today is…Bertram. He teaches Mor—me. To fight." He blamed the near-slip on Arthur being too handsome and distracting him.

Arthur perked up. "Fight? Do you know swordsmanship? That's surprising."

"Why? Because I'm a girl? Or a noble lady?" Merlin snapped, knowing it was a sore spot for Morgana. Every visitor to the castle seemed to make a snide comment about her skills during their stay, and then Morgana complained about it to Gwen and Merlin. "I bet I could take you out with one blow. Or less than that, even."

The outburst didn't shock Arthur, or even upset him. In fact, he looked even more excited. "I'd love to see that. We could have a match to see who's the better swordsman."

Except Merlin was shit with a sword. He threw his hands up as if to defend himself from Arthur's suggestion. "Er, no. That's not what I—Er. I couldn't. What if you got hurt? Then I'd be in trouble for harming the prince of Albion, heir to the throne."

Laughing quietly, Arthur shook his head. "I'm sure my father would let you off easy if you did, since I'm challenging you. But as it's rare even for my knights to harm me, I think I'll have the upper hand in a fight."

How many of the knights didn't harm him just because he was the prince, and how many truly couldn't land a blow, Merlin wondered. Still, there was no way on Earth that Merlin was going to try to best the prince with a sword. With magic – easy, but with a blade – never.

Speaking of swordsmanship and the knights, however – "Actually, I have a better idea."

Arthur lifted a curious eyebrow. "Better than losing to me?"

Merlin frowned. "No. And who says _I _wouldn't best _you_?" He shook his head. "Isn't it true that anyone who can last a minute in combat with you can join the Knights of Camelot?"

"It is," Arthur affirmed.

Merlin stopped at the end of the hall and turned to face the prince. "Then I know someone who would love the chance. They're not a noble, but he has the noblest heart of any man. He'll make a great knight."

Arthur put his hands on his hips. "That's a lot of faith to put in a common man."

Merlin mimicked Arthur's stance. "There's no difference between those of common or noble blood except a chance of birth."

Lips quirking up at the corners, Arthur relented. "Then I will accept his challenge. Tomorrow after lunch."

"He'll be there," Merlin asserted. "You won't be disappointed."

…

…

After escaping Arthur, Merlin holed himself up in Morgana's room and let the spell drop. The idea of taking a nap was just a cover to give Merlin's magic time to relax, but once he was a man again, taking a nap seemed like the best idea Gwen had ever had. As soon as Gwen left the room, Merlin crawled under the covers of Morgana's bed, buried his face in her pillow, and drifted off.

He dreamed he was standing in the middle of Ealdor's market square. There was a sword in his hand and a dress on his very male body. A man stood across from him, dressed in black. His hair was greased back and his hairline was receding, and there was a slimy smile on his face. He was patronizing Merlin – thought it quaint that Merlin thought he might win in a fight.

"You're just a commoner, boy. Did you really think you could keep up your charade? Put the blade down before you hurt yourself."

Anger flared through Merlin. In an instant, the sword was flying through the air, covering the space between him and the oily man with unnatural speed and accuracy – like an arrow loosed from a bow. That same sickly smile remained on the man's face unto the end, when Merlin sat bolt upright in bed.

…

…

That afternoon found Merlin leading Prince Arthur Pendragon on a tour through Ealdor.

"I want to see what the people are like," the prince said.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur grinned. "I want their honest opinion of you as a noble. Think of it as a test."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin said, "Well you won't get an honest opinion dressed like that."

Arthur looked down at his outfit. "What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"

"No one is going to speak honestly to the prince," Merlin pointed out, poking Arthur in the arm. "You'll intimidate them. Even M—Even I can't just walk up and ask them if something's wrong. They'll just tell me what they think I want to hear."

So Arthur put on his least fancy clothes and wore a plain cloak overtop – it was one of Merlin's that had been left at the castle on one of his visits and never made it back home. He also opted to leave his knights behind at the castle, with orders to do their normal practice like they would at home. Merlin left them arguing about subtlety versus safety to change into something more common himself. It only took Gwen six minutes to get him into it. A new record!

For the trip, Merlin also donned a veil of orange fabric. It was thin enough that Arthur could see his lips move when he spoke, but opaque enough to blur the vision of anyone not looking closely. If Arthur did not call him 'Morgana' as they went, no one should look at him long enough to notice something was off. He was just another rich lady wandering the markets.

He got an odd look from Arthur when he arrived in the entrance hall. "It's fashion, Your Highness. Or do they not have that in the capital?"

Arthur held up his hands. "Fashion is beyond me."

Nodding, as if that was only natural, Merlin led the way outside. They could not cover the entire town in an afternoon – not unless they took no time actually _seeing_ the place – so Merlin and Gwen had decided that the market district was the best place to start. They could wander wherever the prince wished after that and he would have a good idea of how Ealdor was as a city and talk to any number of people he wanted.

Ealdor was not a big enough city that they needed to take a carriage or horses on a journey into town. Instead, they leisurely strolled down the main thoroughfare. Others on horseback walked by, their packs laden with goods, but most of those they passed were on foot like them. There were all sorts of people too – children and adults, the young and the old, the poor and the wealthy. A pair of men were arguing about the position of the stars that night. Twin girls tended to the window gardens outside their home. Groups of people stood outside shops, gossiping and catching up with friends.

Merlin took Arthur by the blacksmiths and introduced Gwen's father. Lancelot wasn't around though, so Merlin didn't get a chance to tell him about the duel tomorrow. It was probably for the best though. Lancelot might have fainted at the sight of him. Merlin's magic always seemed to take him by surprise.

After inspecting the wares at the smith, Arthur and Merlin continued on to the tailor, the butcher, the candle maker, the dyer, and the animal feed store. They stopped in at the printer's – where one could have a scribe write out anything of need or desire, for a price. Arthur stood and watched customers come and go in each shop, seemingly fascinated by the doings of common people. He had insisted they not introduce him, so no one bowed to him or paid him any more mind than they would any other rich merchant visiting the town.

And in each place they stopped, Arthur chatted with at least one person. His speech was a bit stilted and he was trying very hard to seem common, but his efforts were rewarded. People stopped to talk to him, and they honestly answered his questions about what life was like in Ealdor. Arthur had a way about him that made him seem very trustworthy. Maybe it was something in the way he stared at whomever he was conversing with – as if every word they said was important to him. Maybe it was the way he rounded his shoulders around those smaller than him, to make himself seem less imposing. Merlin watched him work with fascination, and hoped his veil hid the way he blushed whenever Arthur laughed.

"I know I'm a stranger," Arthur commented quietly as they left the weaver's shop, "but it's amazing how well you manage to go unnoticed. Do you not come into town very often?"

As some townsfolk approached them – a group of men Merlin often saw in the tavern – Merlin averted his face as subtly as he could manage. "Not as often as I would like, but often enough."

Arthur hummed, lifting his hand to block out the sun as he looked about the street. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you don't seem to have much of a presence."

Merlin bristled. "I have plenty of presence!"

A chuckle. "Indeed you do," Arthur agreed, lowering his hand and facing Merlin. "I meant that most nobility I meet give off an air like they own everything around them. They take up space. Noticeably. It's actually quite aggravating sometimes, the way people put on pretences." He motioned to Merlin as they rounded a corner. "Your openness is really very refreshing."

He should probably be less open. Was he being too presumptuous? To forward? Was he breaking some kind of social norm known only among the nobility? Was it painfully obvious he wasn't born in a castle? If it was, Arthur didn't say anything. The prince just kept walking and observing the daily activities of a small town.

Then the smell of warm bread assaulted their nostrils. Cinnamon and clove drifted in the air. Will's mom's bakery was directly in front of them, with scents so heavenly it was like they were drawn in by magic. They didn't even discuss it. Their feet walked of one accord, in perfect tandem, until they were standing inside the bakery.

Alongside the cinnamon and clove, they also smelled the more earthy, herbal scent of dinner breads, and the floral notes of a breakfast loaf. There were cinnamon swirl rolls, vanilla cookies, fruity biscuits, and more stacked on the shelves. Merlin loved this bakery as much as anyone in town – more so when Will's mom gave him free samples of new recipes before they were sold to customers. He saw several of his favorites now.

"Welcome," greeted a deep voice, and all of Merlin's good feelings vanished. "How can I help you?"

Crap. Will. Merlin had forgotten about Will!

He turned around to face a row of shelves while Arthur answered. "I'd like two of whatever just came out of the oven."

"That's alright," Will said, already moving to grab them. "Anything else?"

Arthur hummed. "That raspberry tart there, and whatever the lady wants."

Merlin winced. "A cheese roll, please." He kept his voice low. Even disguised as a woman, Will might recognize his voice.

Luck was not on his side that day. Instead of handing the purchases to Arthur and being done with them, Will came over to present Merlin with his treat personally. Of course he did, the big flirt.

"Here you go, my—" The smooth grin and swagger left Will the instant he saw Merlin's face. "Uh."

Merlin tried to tell Will with his eyes to Shut His Mouth If He Didn't Want To Die. 'Later,' he mouthed, though whether Will saw it through the veil was questionable. He could hardly read lips on a good day. To his credit, Will _did_ shut his mouth. But he also started to grin like the cat that got the canary.

"For you, _my lady_." He winked. "Don't swallow too much at once."

Merlin would kill him anyway. It was the best Will deserved. The ladies of the town would thank him, honestly.

"Thank you," Merlin accepted.

Will turned his grin on Arthur and Merlin had to hold himself back from grabbing Will's arm. "You picked a right good one, sir. Quite the looker, eh?"

Arthur gave Will a cordial smile. "She is."

"How about her personality? She's outspoken, isn't she?" Will pressed before throwing a wink Merlin's way.

Forget later. Merlin was going to kill him right now.

Looking mildly surprised, Arthur again said, "She is."

Will was struggling not to laugh as he spoke. "Almost like a man, she's so confident, am I ri—"

"She would like you to stop talking about her as if she isn't here," Merlin interrupted. "Thank you for the bread. Have a nice day."

As he turned to leave, Merlin's eyes flashed briefly golden. A bag of flour on a shelf behind the counter flung itself to the floor, sending a cloud of flour up into the air and cascading around the room. Arthur jumped and scampered to the door to avoid getting flour on his clothes, Merlin right behind him. Will's mom began shouting as she entered the shop from the back room, asking what happened, while Will tried to collect the scattered flour and yelled back that he didn't know, it just fell!

Once outside the bakery, Arthur took a bite of his pastry. If the pleased sound he made was any indication, Will's mom had outdone herself yet again.

"You know," Arthur said, after finishing his treat in record time – even licking his fingers clean, "I had heard tales of your beauty before I ever thought of venturing to Ealdor for a visit. After meeting you, I wondered at the stories of you bewitching people with a glance. However, I see that it is indeed true. That shop boy was undone by you the moment he realized who you were, and you barely gave him a word." He huffed. "A bit crass, true, but he spoke well of you."

Undone indeed. Merlin would endure months of teasing for this escapade. That was almost worse than being arrested and killed for impersonating a noble.

…

…

There was still plenty of light left in the day when they returned to the castle, so Arthur asked if Merlin would be amenable to a ride through the countryside. Merlin looked to Gwen, who gave a short nod, then accepted.

He couldn't fight with a sword, but he could ride. Merlin also liked the idea of riding because, for as long as Merlin had known her, Morgana rode horseback wearing trousers. Oh trousers. He missed them.

The horses had been saddled and brought around to the courtyard gate by the time Merlin reappeared in his new outfit. Prince Arthur was standing by his horse – the same one he had fallen off the day before – wearing the same clothes as they had wandered the town in, sans cloak. There were two knights talking with him but no horses to match, so they were not accompanying Merlin and Arthur on this excursion either.

Arthur glanced up at Merlin's approach and blinked owlishly at him. After several long moments of simply staring at Merlin, he managed to say, "Trousers?"

"Good to know the royal eyes are in working order," Merlin quipped as he approached Glydia, his mare. She was Morgana's calmest and friendliest horse. When Merlin was little, he had given her an apple as a treat. She had followed him endlessly, hoping for more, and had never forgotten him in all these years, even though they rarely met. "Do you have a problem with women wearing trousers, Highness? Does it scare you?"

The knights laughed at Arthur's blustering and pink cheeks. "Hardly!" he squeaked out at last.

Merlin grinned at him, then put his left foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up onto the horse. He hadn't even finished settling in his seat before he heard Arthur make another odd noise. When Merlin looked over, Arthur's face was even redder than before.

"You don't…ride sidesaddle?" the prince asked.

Morgana most certainly did not. "Your powers of observation continue to amaze, Your Highness." He shook his head. "I have more control with one leg on either side. It would be incredibly embarrassing to be unseated from my horse mid-ride because of a bump or going too fast, don't you think?"

The reminder of his fall had Arthur scowling, though he didn't look upset at Merlin specifically, just at himself. "Indeed."

With a last wave goodbye to the knights – Merlin thought he remembered their names as…Sir Gwaine and Leon – and Merlin's own parting wave to Gwen, the two began a casual trot out of the courtyard, out of the city, and to the fields and forests beyond.

…

…

The early evening air was crisp – a sure sign that harvest season was almost over and winter would soon be upon them. The trees they rode by dropped leaves of every shade of orange and red and brown, so that their horses' hooves made crunching sounds with every step. This could have been avoided simply by walking their horses a dozen feet to their right, where open fields and hills were clear of detritus, but Arthur didn't seem to mind.

"Your countryside is lovely," Arthur said. "And much more open than anything near Camelot."

He sounded whimsical, like he longed for the country frequently.

Frowning, Merlin said, "If you like it so much, take frequent vacations. You're the prince, after all. You can do what you want."

Arthur let out a harsh laugh, then remembered himself and sat up straighter in his saddle. "The position as crown prince comes with a lot of responsibilities. I can't just leave on vacation whenever I wish."

If Morgana's job as Duchess involved council meetings, addressing the grievances and needs of her city and the surrounding countryside, and managing her castle staff, then Arthur's job must include at least a dozen other tasks that Merlin had never considered before. Did he oversee Albion's army, or have a hand in the affairs of every county, or involve himself with economics or guilds? How much of his day was spent answering letters, like Morgana did?

Merlin's face must have held some amount of pity, for when Arthur looked at him he frowned and narrowed his eyes. "It's a position I am honored to hold, as many have before me." Then he sighed and any ire he held melted away. "Though it is one I am not certain I deserve."

Merlin tilted his head curiously. "What do you mean? You're the king's son. How could you not deserve it?"

Arthur watched the passing fields. "The role of heir has always gone to the eldest child. Even before my father united Albion under one flag this was true. I have no wife, no possibility of heirs. Perhaps I am not the one meant to rule Albion after my father passes."

Their path began to descend into a shallow valley. At the bottom of the dip was a river flowing gently among the hills. The atmosphere of the early evening was one of calm acceptance, with a nagging sense of sorrow. It made Merlin frown.

Gripping his reins tighter in his hands, Merlin said, "I think you are." Arthur returned his attention to Merlin. "You went in disguise to speak with commoners, to see if they had any needs or grievances. You wanted to know they were living well. And except for when we first met, you've treated me with respect and courtesy. So…As long as you rule as yourself, and not whatever pompous, pigheaded royal you think you _should_ be…I think you'll be a fine king someday. Heirs or no."

For several long moments, they rode in silence, only the sound of their horses' steps and occasional nickering breaking the quiet between them. Had Merlin spoken wrong? That's what he really thought, though. Their first meeting was awful and Arthur had been a right prick, and then he was pompous and condescending when they first met as Prince and Duchess. But ever since Merlin had called him out on his behavior, Arthur had been a gentleman. He listened when Merlin spoke, and he cared about the common people.

"I had heard from other nobility that you had a hot temper, but ruled fairly," Arthur said at length. "You're nothing like what I expected."

His expression was pinched and troubled, like he wasn't sure if Merlin being different from the rumors was something he should be glad or worried about. Or perhaps worried that he was glad about it.

Merlin was worried too. He had no idea what sorts of tales people spun about Morgana in the capital. Was he different enough from Morgana that Arthur would begin to suspect they were two different people? Oh why was it taking so long to find one missing lady?

Arthur cleared his throat. "Speaking of expectations, we walked around the city for hours today and I expected to see someone but didn't."

"Someone?" Merlin asked.

They had reached the river and were crossing the bridge to the other side. Arthur leaned over in his saddle to stare into the water as he spoke. "Yes. A commoner I met on my way to your castle. He called me a pigheaded brute and an arrogant sod."

He said it as easily as one would comment on clouds in the sky, but Merlin's heart raced. Arthur was talking about him.

"O-oh? That sounds, em, rude?" He couldn't keep a level voice. It dropped and pitched from syllable to syllable.

To Merlin's surprise, Arthur laughed, loudly. "Yes, at the time, I thought so too. However, and you may think I'm crazy, ever since, I can't stop thinking about it." His smile was warm and genuine and Merlin's heart needed to slow down. "He probably had no idea who I was, so he spoke to me plainly. I appreciate that in a person."

And as Morgana, Arthur had said that Merlin's openness was refreshing. Merlin's eyes widened. "You like that." Maybe he wouldn't be arrested after all.

Arthur nodded. "It's invigorating." He let out another chuckle. "Maybe I need to get away from the capital more often after all."

A fox darted from the trees, across the road, and into a patch of bushes on the other side. Both horses reared back in surprise. While Merlin's eyes flashed gold, magic keeping him in the saddle and brushing over Glydia to help calm her, Arthur's saddle snapped and threw him to the dirt with a low thud and a cry of pain.

"Are you alright?!" Merlin called, slipping off Glydia as soon as she had righted herself.

He hurried around Arthur's stallion, running his hand over the horse's flank to give them the same calming magic he had given Glydia, to find Arthur lying on the ground with a pinched expression on his face. As Merlin watched, Arthur tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved his left foot he cried out again and stopped. Merlin knelt beside him and gently reached out to touch Arthur's ankle.

Another cry and Arthur shouted, "Stop! Bloody hell, what do you think you're doing?!" It was the angriest he'd sounded since their first meeting, but pain would do that do a person. This wasn't the first patient to shout at Merlin.

"Shut up, I know what I'm doing." He touched Arthur's ankle as softly as possible, but any pressure at all – even through his boot – had Arthur making some pained noise that had Merlin's chest hurting for him. "Your first fall from a horse sprained your ankle, and this one's broken it entirely."

Despite all his complaining, Arthur insisted, "I'm fine."

Merlin glared at him. "You are not fine," he snapped. "If you don't treat it properly, you'll be hobbled for life. Even with treatment, if the bone broke the skin, you'll have a scar. You said you've been trained since birth. You know this. We have to get you to a doctor."

"Fantastic," Arthur said through grit teeth. He looked down the path the way they had come. It was a long ride back to the castle with a broken ankle. He looked paler just at the thought.

Maybe there was something Merlin could do to ease the pain, or…something.

Merlin cast his eyes about them, cataloguing the bushes and plants and their medicinal and magical uses. No no no, none of them would be of any—wait. Merlin left Arthur's side to inspect the bushes the fox had run into, ignoring Arthur's shouts for him to stay back. The fox ran off across the field as soon as Merlin touched the bush.

"It's a blackberry bush," Merlin muttered to himself. He pulled nine of the leaves from the bush and hurried off down the path, back to the river.

"Where are you going?! At least take a horse if you're going for help!"

Kneeling by the river, Merlin dipped the blackberry leaves in the cool water. Then he ran back to Arthur and sat beside him. He pushed Arthur's trouser leg up and removed his boot – though Arthur cursed and complained the whole time.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, his face flushed and breathing ragged, once his foot and ankle were bare.

The ankle was sitting at an odd angle, with a bump on one side that should not be there. It was already turning colors. Shaking his head, Merlin looked up at Arthur, "This isn't exactly the way blackberry leaves are meant to be used, but it's the best I've got so we'll have to make do."

Arthur started to ask what he meant, but Merlin was already laying the wet leaves over his broken bone, so he grit his teeth and covered his mouth with his hand instead. As he laid the leaves, Merlin whispered every spell of healing he could remember, even ones unrelated to bones and fractures. None of them were meant to be done using blackberry leaves, but if a plant for curing burns and inflammation was what he had to work with, he would make it work.

One of the spells must have hit the right note with the power of the Old Religion, because Merlin felt his magic pull from inside him, run over his own body, and radiate out through his hands over the leaves. Arthur made a perplexed sound through his fingers – halfway between pained and surprised – as his ankle bone shifted back into place and fused back together. When the gold faded from his eyes, Merlin looked up from the wound to Arthur's face.

Arthur was looking at his ankle in open shock, his hand having fallen away from his mouth. He shifted it gingerly, afraid of pain, but when none came he rolled his ankle with more confidence. He winced when he moved it too far. "Hm. Not one hundred percent, but very nearly. That's…That's incredible. You—"

Whatever he was going to say faded when his eyes met Merlin's. His expression shifted to confusion for a moment – a heartbeat of time – and then his gaze became unfocused. Arthur's eyes rolled up into his head and he fell onto his back in a dead faint.

"Arthur!" Merlin cried out—in a very masculine voice. He slapped his hands over his mouth, then his too flat chest.

Thank the gods for Morgana's loose riding clothes or Merlin would have been bursting the seams of a dress right then. He was a man again!

But wait, there were more important things to worry about just then. Merlin scooted up to Arthur's head and was relieved to find him breathing normally. He checked Arthur's eyes and saw flecks of gold blinking in and out among the clear blue of his irises. Magic. The same magic that had healed Arthur had put him to sleep. That made some sort of sense, as the human body needed rest to recover from an injury. Still, some warning would have been nice.

Like a warning that his gender switching spell had worn off. Thank goodness they had ridden out alone. There was no way Merlin could explain this away if someone else had seen. It was bad enough Arthur had glimpsed him.

Well, Arthur had been knocked out by magic. Maybe he hadn't seen. Except there had been that moment of confusion right before he passed out…No, he had definitely seen.

"What do I say when you wake up?" Merlin wondered aloud, his chin in his hand as he watched Arthur slumber. It was nice to hear his own deep voice as he spoke to the prince, even if Arthur was asleep for it. He shifted uncomfortably. Morgana's pants were too tight. "I'll have to come up with something believable, or this charade is over."

…

…

When Arthur awoke, the sun was well and truly setting. Merlin had moved him off the road and made a pillow for him of a tree root. The horses were tied to the far side of the tree – Arthur's without a saddle, and Merlin was leaning against the trunk beside Arthur, a piece of wood in his hands well on its way to being a work of art. At the first sign of Arthur waking, Merlin had reapplied his gender switching spell, so the first thing Arthur saw upon opening his eyes was Merlin's female form, whittling.

"I'm sorry about that," Merlin said when Arthur didn't speak. "I didn't have the proper ingredients for a bone healing spell, and my magic worked in a way I didn't expect. You're alright, though. No visible bad reactions, at least. How are you feeling?" He didn't look away from the wood he was carving, too nervous about what he would see in Arthur's expression.

"I feel fine," Arthur reported. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "Weren't you—That is…I thought I saw—" He cut himself off. Merlin's heartbeat was frantic in his chest and he prayed it didn't show on his face. His hands were definitely shaking too much to whittle. Finally, Arthur ran his hands over his face and sighed. "No, I suppose I didn't," he said, seeming to decide that whatever he was trying to say was too strange to believe.

Merlin let out a quiet breath in relief and continued carving. "You sure you're alright? Your head doesn't hurt?"

Pushing himself to a sitting position, Arthur shook his head. "As I said, I'm fine. What are you doing?"

Putting the finishing touch on the carving, Merlin blew on it to get rid of any slivers still hanging on. It was a pretty decent dragon statue, if he did say so himself. "Whittling. I had to do something to pass the time you were getting your beauty rest."

Arthur looked like he didn't know whether to be curious about the whittling or annoyed about the suggestion that he had _chosen_ to take a nap. Curiosity won out in the end.

"I didn't know you could whittle."

He didn't know a lot of things about Morgana. "It's something my fath…My friend, Merlin? His father could whittle. He used to leave little carved creatures everywhere he went, and gave them away as gifts during the holidays." Merlin's voice was soft, remembering the dragons and fairies, golems and griffins, manticore and bastet figurines that piled up all over their house. His mother used to act like it annoyed her, but she carefully cleaned and cared for each one, even long after Balinor… Merlin cleared his throat. "He taught me when I was young. Before he died."

"Huh," Arthur let out. "Who is this Merlin? Another lord? Your castle staff know him too."

A lord. The idea made Merlin snort, which was very unladylike. "Hardly. He's a physician's assistant." He sobered. "His mother was a maid in the castle for years, and I—That's how I met Merlin. He used to follow her to work all the time." He took a deep breath, his chest aching, his hands falling into his lap holding the carving and knife. He glanced at Arthur and found the prince watching him with interest, but also a certain knowledge in his eyes. As if he knew what Merlin was about to say. "She died the summer before last."

For a few moments, they sat in silence, both frowning. Then Arthur asked, "How did it happen?"

Another deep, grounding breath. "There are some illnesses that even magic cannot fix, Your Highness." Merlin stood and walked around to the horses, untying them and handing Arthur his reins. "It's getting late. If we're not back soon, they'll send out a search party."

It wasn't until they had re-crossed the river and were heading uphill again that Arthur broke the heavy silence that had descended upon them.

"So this friend of yours—Merlin?" Merlin nodded. "He's an orphan then? Does he live at the castle?"

A shake of his head. "No. Like I said, he's a physician's assistant. He lives with our town physician at his workshop. Gaius is his uncle."

"Ah." There was a beat of silence, then Arthur cleared his throat. "So, whittling." It was not the smoothest change of conversation Merlin had ever heard, but somehow it made his lips curl up at the edges. "That's quite a talent."

Grinning, Merlin said, "Oh, I have many talents. You just don't know me well enough yet."

"I want to know though," Arthur said, and it was so earnest that Merlin felt dizzy in his saddle. "Tell me about them? You said you practice with a sword."

Merlin nodded. "I even have a scar from a duel."

Intrigued, Arthur prodded, "Where? I don't see any scar."

"You wouldn't, with all the layers ladies have to wear," Merlin grumbled. Arthur continued to stare at him until Merlin caved. "My left arm, by the elbow."

Morgana had more scars than that, but Merlin had never seen them. He only knew they existed because Gaius had treated all of them personally and occasionally had Merlin run medicine to Morgana when bad weather made her old training wounds ache and itch. Still, even news of _one_ scar had Arthur looking impressed – like he took Merlin's claim of practicing swordsmanship more seriously now.

"And? What else? What other talents do you have? I know you have more."

So, for the length of time it took them to return to the city, Merlin did minor magic for Arthur. It was something he was good at – sometimes the _only_ thing he felt good at. He avoided anything too flashy in case it caused his gender switch spell to fail again, but flashes of light and colored sparks, smoke curling from his fingertips to form shapes in the air, or changing the color of Arthur's tunic were simple enough. And every spell delighted Arthur, like a child witnessing their first magic show. Surely Arthur had seen plenty of magic in his time as prince, but his eyes lit up with wonder every time Merlin's eyes turned golden.

It was wonderful and endearing and Merlin fell a little bit in love with him with every new smile.

After they handed their horses off to the stable hands, Arthur offered his arm to Merlin for the walk up the stairs into the castle. The real Morgana would have scoffed at the pointless show of chivalry, but Merlin felt his cheeks warm. Hesitantly, he took Arthur's arm and allowed himself to be walked up the steps.

"Your magic is fantastic," Arthur complimented, his head tilted toward Merlin like they were sharing a private conversation.

No one had complimented Merlin's magic, or reacted to Merlin's magic with so much genuine joy, since he was a child. His heart was running a marathon and he felt warm all over. But he was supposed to be Morgana. He had to stay dignified and aloof. Besides, Morgana's magic wasn't like Merlin's. He had best make sure Arthur didn't set his expectations too high.

Shrugging, Merlin said, "It's well enough. I'm more of a seer though."

They reached the top of the stairs and entered the palace, but Merlin did not let go of Arthur's arm and Arthur did not pull away. Instead, they walked through the corridors toward the dining hall for supper, still connected.

"Seers can tell the future, correct?" Arthur asked. When Merlin nodded, he continued, "That is another useful skill. It would come in handy when ruling a kingdom."

"Not as much as you might think," Merlin said warningly. "The visions are usually only part of what will happen. I can tell a storm is coming, or a wall falling, or a horse kicking someone. But I usually can't tell _when_ the storm will hit, or _which_ building's wall will fall, or _why_ the horse kicked someone. It's very sporadic."

Morgana had complained numerous times over the years about how useless her seer skill really was. She had learned to hone it though, and more often nowadays she could find the answers to when, which, or why with a little extra prodding. It still wasn't perfect, though. If it was, she never would have gone missing. Either she would have seen who would take her, or she would have known Arthur wasn't there to propose marriage.

Arthur hummed as they turned the corner and approached the doors to the dining hall. "What about me? What have your visions told you about me?"

Merlin scrunched up his face. His own experience with visions was worse than Morgana's. Once in a blue moon, and usually so vague or dreamlike that he brushed them off as mere fancy. Until a tree fell and split someone's house in two, or Will turned up to Morgana's inheritance ceremony covered in flour and white as a ghost.

"Being absolutely honest, I never saw anything about you. You were a complete mystery."

A servant opened the door for them just as they reached it, and Arthur dropped Merlin's arm to let him enter the room first.

"I should hope I'm not a complete mystery anymore."

Merlin took Morgana's seat at the table once again. Once Arthur too had taken his seat, Merlin stared at him like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Hm…I don't know. I think I'm beginning to understand you, at least," he teased.

Likewise, Arthur stared at Merlin as if he didn't quite know who he was looking at. "Sometimes I think I understand you, too. At other times, you're like a riddle wrapped in a mystery, and I don't have the tool of sorcery to figure you out." He smiled. "I'm enjoying trying, though. More than I thought I would."

…

…

"Gwen, we have a problem."

Gwen was putting away the riding clothes and preparing a bath for Merlin while Merlin lingered behind the dressing screen stark naked.

"What? Did you rip something? The clothes look alright…," she trailed off.

Merlin leaned against the wall with his face in his hands. "No, the clothes are fine. I'm the problem."

There was a moment of silence except for the quiet sound of water – Gwen testing the temperature. "The bath is ready."

Merlin sighed and pulled the towel down from the wall, wrapping it around his waist.

As he stepped from behind the wall, Gwen asked, "How are you the problem? Your magic?"

Merlin shook his head. With Gwen still in the room, he couldn't actually get into the bath, but his stomach would not stop rolling until he came clean with _someone_, and Gwen was the only person who might understand.

"No. Gwen, I—I think I'm falling in love with Arthur. I mean, Prince Arthur."

Gwen stared at him blankly. "Falling…Aren't you the one who was afraid of being arrested yesterday? Who said Arthur was a prat? Who complained the entire time I laced you into that first gown and put a wig on you?"

Merlin gave her his best unimpressed look. "Yes. But that was before…" His cheeks felt hot. "Before we had dinner, or spent the day together, or had any kind of meaningful conversation. He—Gwen, he's proud. Of course he is, he's the prince. But he's also attentive and insightful and he cares about people and…And I think I'm in real trouble."

A smile had been growing on Gwen's face the longer Merlin talked, and the redder his cheeks became, but now she frowned. "Because he thinks you're a woman?" she asked in a soft voice.

"No. Well, yes. But no. Because he's here for Morgana." Merlin threw his hand out, as if motioning toward Morgana standing in the corner. "Because princes don't marry physician's assistants. They marry nobility. And Arthur came here for Morgana. He may not have asked for her hand yet, but it's only a matter of time."

His voice was high and reedy with stress, but he felt he had earned it. He ran a hand through his hair once, then again.

"Meanwhile, once he finds out I'm not only _not _Morgana, but a commoner impersonating a noble, the best I can hope for is he never speaks to me again. At worst, I'll be killed. And somewhere in the middle has me living the rest of my life in a jail cell with magic restraints eating slop every day and seeing sunlight only through a tiny barred window near the ceiling."

Gwen placed a hand on his arm near his elbow and pulled his hands from his hair. She took his chin in her other hand and forced him to look at her. "You aren't going to jail, Merlin. And you aren't going to die. I can't say what will happen with Arthur, but I can promise you that."

Of course she couldn't say what would happen with Arthur. Nothing would happen with Arthur. Merlin's heart needed to remember its station in life and stop daydreaming.

Patting his arm gently, Gwen motioned to the bath. "Come on. I'll leave so you can enjoy a relaxing bath. You've earned it."

Merlin put his hands on the side of the tub and stared at the clear water as Gwen headed for the door. Just as her hand touched the handle, he called, "Gwen?" He met her eyes. "We have to tell him the truth tomorrow. If Elyan and the guards haven't found Morgana yet…"

Gwen dropped her eyes to the floor. "I know. We need help."

She pulled the door open and froze. Standing in the doorway was Sir Gwaine, his hand raised to knock. "Ah, hullo," he greeted with a charming smile that put anything Will had ever tried to shame. "I was sent by the prince to speak with…"

His voice died away when his eyes traveled over Gwen's shoulder and spotted Merlin standing by the bath. Naked except for a towel. For a half a second, his smile grew lecherous.

"Oh. I didn' realize she had a gentleman call….wait a minute." He pushed his way into the room before Gwen could get out a word of protest. His eyes quickly assessed the room, taking in the furniture, the windows, the bed, and the lack of other people. "It's you. Yer her, aren' ya?"

"Uh."

Shit. Shit shit damn and shit. Maybe he should run with that gentleman caller idea – though the thought of bedding Morgana was horrifying. And he really wasn't properly handsome enough to be paid for his services. He couldn't get someone to take him up on it for free.

Sir Gwaine crossed the distance between them in three strides and grabbed Merlin by the chin, much like Gwen had but more forceful. He turned Merlin's face from side to side, inspecting. Merlin shoved his hands away.

"Get your hands off me," he snapped, taking a step back. The towel almost slipped from around his waist and he had to fumble to catch and resituate it. He wished he were wearing actual clothes for this.

The look on the knight's face was baffled but serious. "Has the Duchess always been a man in disguise, or are ye part of some plot agains' the crown?" He narrowed his eyes as soon as Merlin opened his mouth. "And don' lie. I recognize yer face, man er woman."

"It's not a plot," Gwen insisted, closing the door and hurrying over to give Sir Gwaine her best pleading look. "I swear to you, we mean the prince no harm."

Merlin grabbed Gwen by the arm and moved her behind him, in case Sir Gwaine was the type of knight to attack first and ask questions later. Sir Gwaine noticed the move, and even looked mildly impressed by it. It didn't quell his suspicion though.

"Well ya'd best get ta explainin' yerselves quick then," he ordered, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "Where's the duchess? An' who are you?"

"My name is Merlin. I'm a physician's assistant and a friend of Morgana's," Merlin said.

An odd look overcame Sir Gwaine. Recognition, then eyebrows lifting in surprise, then…merriment? in the twitch of his lips, before returning to seriousness – but it was more the sort of seriousness a child bears when listening to his friends tell a tall tale, rather than something as important as possible treason.

"Ya forgot the part where ya threw the prince from his saddle with magic," Gwaine added, somewhere between accusing and teasing.

All the blood left Merlin's face. Arthur had seemed good-natured about the incident, but once this farce came to light, would it be painted like that in court? Would it sound like Merlin had used magic to try and harm the prince?

Waving a hand, Gwaine said, "And? How'd this come about?"

Merlin cleared his throat, but it still took two tries before he could get sound out. "Right before the prince arrived, Morgana went missing. I can…There's a spell. It lets me become a woman for a time." Merlin's cheeks were hot, but Sir Gwaine just nodded for him to continue and did not jeer at him for it. "Gwen is Morgana's maidservant and asked me to pretend to be Morgana to give the guards time to figure out what happened to her and bring her back."

The idea clearly baffled Sir Gwaine. He looked at them with eyes as wide as an owl's, and equally as vacant. "Why?"

"We were worried the prince would think she'd just run off, or that she was rebelling against the crown," Gwen said. "She's not that kind of person. We just…We just needed time. And we were going to tell him in the morning anyway, since my brother and the guards haven't found her yet. I promise."

Sir Gwaine nodded, as if this made complete sense. Merlin would love if he could explain it to him then, because this was honestly total nonsense. They must have lost their minds to think Merlin pretending to be a noble woman was a better plan than just explaining things to the prince. Why had he agreed to this?

Then Sir Gwaine's face went hard again. "Ya can't." Merlin and Gwen narrowed their eyes, confused. "Ya can' tell him in the morning. Or anytime at all t'morrow."

"What?"

Hadn't he just been upset with them for lying to the prince? Why the change of mind?

Sir Gwaine rubbed his face with his hands. "I can' believe I'm sayin this, but ya have ta lie ta the prince fer a little longer." A sigh as he came to terms with what he just said, and then he stood as tall and proud as a knight ever did. "Lord Agravaine, the prince's uncle, is returning t'morrow. Arthur might not kill ya fer impersonatin' a noble, the smitten sod, but his uncle surely would."

Merlin took a half step back and Gwen moved to stand in front of him instead.

"He can't. Morgana would never allow it. If she were here, she'd say the same." She clasped her hands together in pleading. "Please. Please help us."

"If the duchess would support ya, where is she?" Sir Gwaine asked, casting his eyes around the room as if Morgana would magically appear to back up their claims.

Gwen's face fell and her voice was low and sad, like she had just learned her father had died. "The guards have been searching day and night but Morgana is nowhere to be found."

Sir Gwaine looked between them a few times, deliberating. He seemed to stare at Merlin longer and harder than he stared at Gwen. Merlin really wished he were wearing trousers.

Closing his eyes, Sir Gwaine asked, "Where have ya looked?"

"The city. The castle. They're working on searching the woods and countryside right now," Merlin reported. "None of her clothes are missing, no horses either, and she took no provisions. She isn't the kind of person to run away from her problems."

All the playfulness had vanished from Sir Gwaine's serious expression. "Kidnapping."

He stayed only a few minutes longer. The knights would help, he said. He could tell them what was happening without alerting the prince. When Gwen and Merlin protested anyone from the visiting party knowing – as that was their pool of suspects – Sir Gwaine declared that he trusted the knights with his life and none of them would ever do such a thing. Besides which, if it had been a knight, they would have already called Merlin on his ruse when they heard Morgana had returned.

So Sir Gwaine and the knights would help Elyan and the guards search for Morgana – and protect Merlin from Lord Agravaine.

It wasn't until he went to leave that Merlin had a thought and called him back. "Wait."

Gwaine stopped at the door. Merlin dug through his things and pulled out the dragon he had whittled that afternoon. He handed it to the knight.

"For Arth….For the prince." His cheeks felt hot again and it had nothing to do with his state of undress.

Gwaine examined the dragon from every angle. "What is it?" he asked.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Merlin said, "Just…something I made. He should recognize it. I made it today with him there. It's a gift." He looked toward the curtained windows instead of at Gwaine.

A gift for Arthur from Merlin – before everything turned to horseshit and ruin. Before Arthur learned it was all a lie and possibly had him arrested or exiled. Or whatever princes did to imposters if they didn't kill them.

Again, when Gwaine made to leave, he was called back, this time by Gwen. "You came with word from Arthur?" she reminded him.

"Ahhh." Gwaine grinned with all the satisfaction of a cat with a successful hunt. "His Highness decided ta take an evenin' stroll of the town again," a single chuckle, "with our stalwart leader, Sir Leon, an' wanted me ta tell the duchess about it so she didn' worry if one of the maids reported he was missin' er somethin'. That's all."

Something about this message made Gwaine chuckle again. It wasn't a funny message, but he fought laughter the entire way out the door and down the hall. Strange man. A good man, but strange.

Once Gwaine – and his odd humor – had gone, Gwen dipped her fingers in the bath water. A sigh. "It's gone cold." Merlin's eyes flashed gold and Gwen gasped. "I forget you can do that," she said as she pulled her hand back.

Merlin moved to stand next to the bath tub again and fiddled aimlessly with his towel. Gwen frowned at him.

"You really care about him," she said. "You only whittle things for people you care about."

Merlin met her eyes. "I told you. I'm in real trouble, Gwen. And there's nothing I can do about it."

…

…

Gwen dressed Merlin in a gown that had more layers than any before it, and had him wear a scarf over the bottom half of his face.

"We'll say you caught a cold during your ride yesterday."

"What? Why?" Merlin protested, pulling the cloth away from his face.

The glare Gwen saddled him with would have made him retreat if he could move while she laced him up. "Have you forgotten? Morgana met with Lord Agravaine a few days ago. He knows her face. If he looks at you for more than a few moments, he'll know you aren't her. You have to keep him from getting a good look. Wear the scarf," she ordered.

Adequately terrified, Merlin wore his scarf down to breakfast. He made the trek without Gwen, who had to go get Lancelot ready for his bought against Arthur that afternoon. Springing the news on him made Merlin feel a little bad, but it was something Lancelot had always wanted, and Gwen delivering the news would soften the blow a bit.

A herald approached with news of Lord Agravaine's arrival before Merlin even made it to the dining hall. He was sitting across from Arthur when Merlin arrived and talking to him in hushed tones.

"-seemed off? Worried, perhaps?"

Arthur noticed Merlin's approach and quickly stood from his seat, his uncle following suit, though with a sour expression. Sour became sweet as he turned to properly greet a duchess.

"Lady Morgana," Arthur greeted with an inclination of his head. "This is my uncle, Lord Agravaine. I believe you have already met?"

Merlin nodded and gave Lord Agravaine his hand, which he held for a moment too long before releasing.

"A pleasure to see you so…healthy, my lady," Lord Agravaine said. His voice was as smooth as freshly churned butter and made Merlin feel just as greasy. It slithered out of his mouth, a mere breath away from sounding more like a threat than a greeting.

This man was a snake.

As he took his seat at the head of the table, Merlin demurred, "Not so healthy, my lord." He looked at Arthur while he spoke. "I must have caught something yesterday during the ride. My throat." He put his hand over his throat, and the bit of scarf that covered it, to indicate how it ached.

Arthur's expression became concerned. "The magic?"

That was a good excuse. Thank you, Arthur Pendragon. "Maybe. It must have taken more out of me than I thought. I'm more of a seer than a sorcerer."

Guilt colored Arthur's worry. Was he remembering all the magic Merlin had done, healing Arthur, showing off his skills on their way back to the castle? He had no way of knowing that such tricks were mere trifles of magic, nor that this was entirely a ruse to hide from his uncle. The lie hurt Merlin's throat more than any ride ever had.

"How terrible for you," Lord Agravaine added as breakfast was brought out by servants. "You must have been through a trial."

It was both easier and harder to look at Lord Agravaine instead of the prince. Arthur was easier on the eyes and made Merlin feel warm inside. Lord Agravaine was not nearly as easy to look at, and he made Merlin feel queasy. He wore all black, versus Arthur's browns and reds. His hair was greased back, where Arthur's fell loose and soft about his head. His dark hair was receding, where Arthur's golden lock were vibrant and healthy.

"Any illness could be a trial," Merlin agreed, though his tone made it obvious he did not actually agree. Was Lord Agravaine's life so pampered that a sore throat was considered a trial? And it still sounded like the lord was making veiled threats, though his words had no warnings or innuendo to them.

Lord Agravaine also looked pale and sick next to Arthur's guilt and concern, as if _he _were the one who had endured a trial. Maybe he should be the one wearing the scarf. And there was something about him…Something familiar…Except Merlin had never met Lord Agravaine before this moment, so how could that be?

It hit him halfway through the second course – a lovely plate of fish waffles made with pike and ginger – and he nearly spit his mouthful out into the scarf still hiding his face.

That dream he had right after Arthur arrived! He had dreamt he stood in the market square, male but in a dress, with Lord Agravaine standing across from him and mocking him!

"_You're just a commoner, boy. Did you really think you could keep up your charade? Put the blade down before you hurt yourself."_

Had that been a vision? Merlin only rarely saw the future, and never so clear as Morgana did. It didn't feel like a vision, and yet how else could he have dreamt of Lord Agravaine? He didn't know the man before entering this room.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

He must have made a sound or jerked when the memory hit. Merlin shook his head. "I'm fine." Arthur didn't look convinced. "Are you ready for your duel today?"

Arthur sat back in his seat, though his hand still held his fork as it played with the remaining fish on his plate. "I'm always ready for a knight's bout. I hope your challenger is as good as you claim."

The look on his face was more like he was challenging Merlin, rather than Lancelot. Accepted. Merlin grinned under his scarf. "Oh, he is. You won't be disappointed."

"Huh," Arthur let out, a pompous expression taking over his face. Except, it was playful, not arrogant, and Merlin's smile only grew. "I half expect no one to show up at all. You know, you'll have to face me yourself if your man is too scared."

Shaking his head, Merlin said, "He'll show. He's not the kind of person to run from a fight, even if he's scared. If anyone is likely to not appear due to fear, it'll be you."

A scraping, screeching sound broke through their conversation as Lord Agravaine slid his chair away from the table, causing both prince and fake-duchess to jump in their seats. The lord gave them each a nauseous smile.

"I fear _I _am the one who is not feeling my best," Lord Agravaine said apologetically. He stood and bowed to his nephew, then inclined his head to Merlin. "If you will excuse me, Arthur, my lady."

He hurried off fast for someone who looked so out of sorts. From behind a pillar, Gwaine slipped out of the room after Lord Agravaine. Good. That meant Merlin didn't have to find Gwaine later to ask him to follow the lord. If Merlin had had a vision about Lord Agravaine – especially one like he did – then he was up to no good.

Maybe it had to do with Morgana's disappearance. He _was_ the last outsider to see Morgana before she vanished, after all. Maybe it had nothing to do with Morgana at all. Whatever it was, he needed to be caught. Merlin could ask Gwaine what he found out when the knight returned.

…

…

Even after meeting with the castle staff, and eating lunch, there was plenty of time before Arthur had to face Lancelot in their duel, and it seemed this was the day for Arthur to show off. He asked Merlin to show him the armory. Once there, Arthur picked out a bow and quiver of arrows and marched purposefully toward the archery range. It wasn't really the archery range, but simply the field beside the castle where guards could train. There were bales of hay with targets marked on them already standing in the field and Arthur made a beeline for them.

"You do realize you have a match this afternoon?" Merlin asked. "Maybe it isn't the best idea to wear your arms out practicing your bow work when the duel will be fought with swords?"

"Of course not," Arthur agreed. He stared at one of the hay bales, visibly measuring the distance between him and it. He raised the bow, no arrow notched, and aimed at the hay bale. After a few seconds, he slowly released the pressure on the string and lowered the bow.

"Then what are you doing?" Walking out into the fields had not been on the agenda for the day and Merlin was not wearing the proper shoes for this. He would have put on a pair of Morgana's boots if he had known. The length of the skirts would have covered them.

Arthur grinned and grabbed Merlin's hand, placing the bow in his grip. Then he pulled an arrow from the quiver and held it out to Merlin.

"Do you know how to shoot, my lady?"

Not a bit. Did Morgana know how? Probably. It had never come up though, if she did. Merlin shook his head in the negative.

"I know your throat is aching from yesterday," Arthur said, that guilty expression returning for a moment before retreating again, "but do you feel up to a lesson?"

He was still challenging Merlin. Er, Morgana. Merlin pulled the scarf down around his neck, like he normally wore his neckerchiefs. "Of course. No sore throat can stop me."

"Good."

Reaching out with his free hand, Arthur pulled Merlin two steps forward, while taking two steps back. Arthur used that same hand to spin Merlin around so that his left side faced the hay bale targets.

"Feet shoulder width apart. Pelvis forward just a bit. Back straight," Arthur ordered, like he was commanding a knight-in-training but more gently.

Merlin shifted his feet and stood as straight as possible. All the cinching and tying Gwen had done to get him into the gown that morning actually helped. He couldn't slouch if he wanted to.

"Grip the bow with your left hand, the string with your right. Aim it at the ground."

Once Merlin had done so, Arthur came around to his front side. He gently moved Merlin's right hand so he could grab the bowstring himself. Making sure that Merlin was watching, Arthur showed him how to lay the arrow so it wouldn't fall off. Then took Merlin's right hand in his own and placed Merlin's index finger above the arrow and his middle and ring fingers below the arrow.

Merlin's hand was tingling.

Stepping back, Arthur pointed at the hay. "Aim, but don't fire."

Nodding, Merlin held up the bow. It was hard, with the fabric of the dress trying to hold him back, but he managed. Closing his left eye, he aimed down the arrow shaft at the target.

"No, no no." Stepping back in, Arthur put one hand over Merlin's on the bow and one on his dominant arm, pulling it down, down. "There. Keep your arm low. Your body should form a T. Your elbow can go up a bit when aiming, but not too much. Now…"

Arthur touched Merlin's fingers on the bowstring.

"Pull it back, anchoring at your chin. When you're in the right position, you'll be able to see straight down the shaft of the arrow." Once Merlin had done that, Arthur tapped the elbow of Merlin's straight arm. "You'll smack your arm at this rate. Rotate your shoulder inward." Doing so moved the bump of Merlin's elbow out, leaving a straight line from shoulder to wrist. "Good. Now. Aim just a bit above where you want to hit. Breathe. When you're ready, release the string."

A little bit of magic would ensure that Merlin hit the dead center of any target, but doing so then felt wrong. This wasn't a game against gamblers in a tavern. There was no money involved, no bet. It was just him and Arthur on the field. None of the guards or knights had followed them – probably off searching for Morgana. So Merlin aimed his arrow the old fashioned way. Breathed. As he exhaled, he let go of the bowstring, and the arrow flew.

As amazing as a bullseye would have been, it didn't happen. Merlin's arrow landed two rings out from the center. Still, he had hit the target at all. That was something on a first try.

Merlin turned to give Arthur a smile and found the prince standing only a step away, as close as he had been when showing Merlin how to stand and hold the bow. It hadn't seemed so close before, but now it felt like they were breathing the same air. Merlin could see flecks of different shades of blue in Arthur's eyes. His lips were pulled back and up in a congratulatory smile, his mouth open like he had meant to say something but forgot. The laces of his tunic weren't done up all the way.

When Merlin forced his eyes back up to Arthur's, the smile was gone. The look on his face and in his eyes was intense, and Merlin felt his cheeks heat. His whole _body_ was hot.

"Arthur—"

"Your Highness! My lady!"

Merlin jumped back so fast and jerkily that he dropped the bow into the grass. Turning, they saw Gwen approaching with Lancelot in tow. Lancelot's usually windswept hair had been tamed, and he wore a pale blue tunic that he only ever wore for special occasions. Normally there was a shadow of a beard on Lancelot's face, but today there was nothing but clear skin. Gwen must have groomed him to meet the prince.

"Gwen," Merlin greeted, and was horrified to hear how breathy his voice came out. His female voice was already higher than he would like, now he had to sound scandalous as well? He and Arthur hadn't even done anything to be breathless about!

Gwen gave him a curious look, then noticed the arrow in the hay and the bow on the ground. "Oh. Were you practicing archery?" Both Arthur and Merlin nodded. Arthur nodding too made Gwen remember who, exactly, he was, and she motioned clumsily toward Lancelot. "Um. This, er, this is…"

Taking pity on her, Merlin motioned toward Lancelot with much more grace. "This is Lancelot, the man I mentioned to you yesterday, and your opponent for this afternoon's duel."

Lancelot gave a deep bow, almost to the point of falling over. Well, he was just as nervous as Gwen. In his defense, he didn't work for a duchess every day.

Arthur stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "Arthur Pendragon. I hear great things about you."

Lancelot grabbed Arthur's hand with both of his own in his excitement and gave it a large, firm handshake. "Lancelot du Lac. It's an honor, sire."

Arthur let out a surprised 'oh' and then turned to Merlin with his eyebrows lifted. "Listen to that. Sire. I'm not sure I've heard you call me that once, Lady Morgana."

"Er—," Gwen tried.

"As I am not your servant, I thought 'Your Highness' and 'My Lord' worked just fine," Merlin quipped back easily. "If that's not good enough for the royal ego, I can always try something else. No title at all, perhaps?"

Arthur chortled. "That wicked tongue of yours. I may never get used to it."

Was it Merlin's imagination or was the smile that graced Arthur's features fond? No. Even if it was, that smile was for Morgana the Duchess, not Merlin the Commoner.

"Is it time for the duel, Gwen?" Merlin asked, focusing on his friend and not the man he was possibly already head-over-heels in love with.

Their merry little party headed back to the castle green, that blank space between the two defensive walls. It was the perfect area to have a duel in. Merlin had thought they would duel with swords, but instead Arthur called for broomsticks.

"Would you like me to sweep the guard house?" Lancelot asked dubiously, staring at them.

"It could probably use it, but no." Arthur spun one stick around his hand. "I would hate to permanently injure someone," he said in explanation before tossing one of the sticks to Lancelot.

Merlin, Gwen, and one of Arthur's knights that Merlin didn't know the name of, stood to the side as witnesses. For awhile, Lancelot and Arthur simply stood there, holding their sticks, staring at each other. Then, finally, Lancelot attacked.

He made a downward slice toward Arthur, who parried and threw the attack wide. Then Arthur slashed across. Lancelot jumped back, just out of range. Without a moment's reprieve, Arthur darted forward to attack again. For a few moments, it seemed all Lancelot could do to keep Arthur from landing a blow. He blocked attack after attack, or darted out of the way entirely.

Then Arthur made another cross slash and Lancelot took the opening to step in and draw his stick up in a slash from below. Arthur managed to knock it wide at the last moment, but sloppily. Had real blades been involved, he would've lost at least the cloth of his trousers on the left side. Gwen cheered. Merlin winced, then gave a call of support to Lancelot. He wasn't sure who he was supposed to support!

The bout continued in that way. The attacks were quick, the steps quicker. Arthur landed a blow to Lancelot's left arm, but it wasn't hard. Lancelot got the upper hand on Arthur right after, but the knight present called time before he could land another blow to the prince.

Though it had only been sixty seconds, both men had sweat beginning to bead on their skin. Arthur dropped his stick to the grass and held out his hand to Lancelot, a bright smile on his face.

"Lancelot, you said?"

"Yes, sire," Lancelot said as he shook Arthur's hand.

Except Arthur pulled him a step closer and grasped Lancelot's arm in a firmer hold than a handshake. "I would be honored to have you stand as a knight of Camelot, as _Sir_ Lancelot."

"Th-thank you, sire. I mean, this is—I won't let you down."

The only time Merlin had ever seen Lancelot look so flustered and so pleased at the same time was when Lancelot had given Gwen flowers two years ago and she had said it was the loveliest gift she'd ever received. Somehow, that had not led to an official courtship, and Gwen still denied Lancelot had any romantic feelings toward her. Fools.

Arthur simply let out a little laugh at Lancelot's behavior. "I believe it."

…

…

Merlin bowed out of the proceedings after the match. There were things Lancelot had to do in order to be fully accepted as a knight, but Merlin had not gotten his afternoon break from being a woman yet and his skin had begun to tingle. As soon as he was free of the dress and the spell, he landed face first in Morgana's bed and fell asleep.

Merlin stood in the dark, the cold, the wet.

"Some knight in shining armor you turned out to be. Guess I have to save myself." It was Morgana, but Merlin couldn't see her anywhere.

"I can hardly be blamed for the cave in, Princess." Gwaine!

Though Merlin turned in circles, it was dark in every direction. Where were they? Where was _he_? He was trapped. In a burst, it felt like some part of him cracked open, but it didn't hurt.

"Merlin!"

He exploded.

Eyes flying open, Merlin pushed himself up and looked around. He was still in Morgana's bedchamber, and the sun had not yet begun to set. He was alone, though he would have sworn on his mother's grave that Morgana had called his name.

That was the second possible vision in as many days. Merlin needed to talk to Gaius.

He pulled on his trousers, blue tunic, and red kerchief, then his socks and boots. If he was going to make it out of the castle without incident, he had to do it as a man. Besides which, he didn't have Gwen to dress him.

Carefully, he inched Morgana's bedroom door open. The hall outside was empty. Merlin slid out and shut the door, then bolted away before someone could spot him leaving the duchess' room and get strange ideas.

He made it down the stairs, through the courtyard, and past both defensive walls without incident. Merlin looked up at the outer gate and let out a breath. Safe. Then he turned around and ran smack into another man. Arms flailing, Merlin almost fell down, but the person he bumped into grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied him.

"Were you trying to knock me down again?"

"Arthur!" Merlin jumped back out of Arthur's grip.

The prince lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Do I…know you?"

"I—Er—That is—No."

What was Arthur doing in the city? Wasn't he doing official knight business with Lancelot? And he was…dressed like a peasant? Arthur wore brown trousers and a white tunic under a light brown vest.

"Are you…in disguise?" Merlin asked.

Arthur's cheeks tinted pink. He cleared his throat and looked off down the road. "I hear there's a good physician in this city, but I've yet to visit him. I thought it best if the visit were more discreet."

Frowning, Merlin asked, "Gaius?"

Arthur beamed at him. "Oh good. You know him. Show me the way." And he grabbed Merlin by the shoulders to push him down the street ahead of him.

It was strange to walk with Arthur as a man, to put it lightly. Merlin hardly dared look at him for fear Arthur would recognize him as the duchess he had been spending so much time with these past two days. He even pat his chest a few times, just to make sure he didn't have defined breasts at the moment. Then he touched his throat to feel his Adam's apple.

All man.

He was walking with Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Albion, as himself. Not Morgana. Him. Merlin.

Arthur's arm brushed against his as they walked and Merlin gulped. Did he have to walk so close?

"I don't believe I got your name last time," Arthur commented. His eyes were on the people and places they passed, watching the commoners chat and shop and go about their day. It was the same fascination he had shown on his last trip into town.

"No. You were too busy shouting," Merlin reminded him.

Arthur gave him a sardonic grin. "You mostly deserved it."

"Mostly?" Merlin shook his head and grinned. "Well then, you _mostly_ deserved getting knocked off your horse."

Like with Merlin-as-Morgana, such a comment made Arthur laugh. "You really don't care who I am, do you?"

Merlin shrugged. "Not really. No."

Arthur stopped walking and turned to face Merlin. "So then, may I have the name of the fearless commoner who insults royalty?"

Arthur was smiling at him. At Merlin. He couldn't get his head around that.

"I'm Merlin," Merlin introduced, jerkily thrusting his hand out.

Arthur shook it, then lifted an eyebrow. "Merlin? Aren't you friends with the Duchess Ealdor? You look like you could be her brother."

So he did notice that female-Merlin and male-Merlin looked alike.

He was still holding Merlin's hand. "Yeah. No, we're just friends. Since we were kids."

A wicked gleam entered Arthur's eyes. "I hear you caused quite a lot of mischief. I bet you still do, if that stunt in the street is anything to go by."

Merlin balked. "That was an accident, and still mostly your fault!"

Shaking his head, Arthur finally released Merlin's hand and continued walking. They made it to Gaius' within two minutes from there. The old man looked up from grinding herbs to greet them, then stood up straight and glared.

"Merlin! Where on Earth have you been?" he chastised. Merlin tried to discreetly wave his arms to make Gaius _stop talking _but it had no effect. "Just because your friends ask you for help doesn't mean you can abandon your actual job for days at a time. You had better not have been at the tavern with Will again."

Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look. "See? I was right. Still causing mischief."

Merlin had barely managed an embarrassed smile when Gaius asked, "And who is this?" with crossed arms.

Stepping forward, Arthur gave his best royal bow. It looked a bit silly with the peasant's clothes. "I am Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Albion and son of King Uther Pendragon. I heard you were once friends with my father and felt a proper greeting was in order."

Gaius blinked at Arthur owlishly for a second or two, then hurried to wipe his hands clean and come around the counter to properly greet him. "I was his tutor for a time, when I was younger. To be remembered as a friend is extraordinary."

Merlin gaped at his uncle. "_You_ tutored the king?!"

Gaius gave Merlin his most disapproving eyebrow. "Before the unification, a lot was different. I was even part of Uther's court for a time. It was only after your father died that I…Well." He turned his attention back to Arthur. "Does the king need something?"

Arthur shook his head. "You've been invited to attend a gathering of physicians and mage healers in Camelot. Since you knew my father and I was coming to visit the city anyway, I volunteered to deliver the news." His eyes trailed from Gaius to Merlin.

"Mage healers?" Gaius harrumphed. "That doesn't sound like something your father would approve of."

"Times are changing," Arthur said as he looked back to the old man. "This meeting is a step toward re-admitting magic into the capital and fighting back against the discrimination magic users have faced for too long since the unification of Albion. My father arranged the gathering and wrote up the invitations himself."

From within his vest, Arthur produced a small scroll, which he passed to Gaius. Gaius didn't show Merlin what was written there, but Merlin assumed it was one of the invitations Arthur mentioned. Merlin and Arthur shared a look while Gaius examined the scroll. The blue of Arthur's eyes seemed paler when paired with a white tunic, like the sky. They stared at each other long enough that Merlin felt himself begin to blush.

What did Arthur see when he looked at Merlin? His thin face? His pronounced cheekbones? His big ears? Everyone noticed his ears. Probably the only reason Arthur hadn't noticed them before was because of the wig Gwen kept forcing him into.

"I will consider it, but no promises," Gaius said, what felt like hours later. He rolled the scroll up. "Thank you for delivering this. You could have sent a messenger."

Arthur shook his head and smiled his most princely smile. "I had other business in town as well, so it was no trouble." A startled look overcame him, as if he hadn't meant to say that. "In any case, I had best return to the castle before my knights worry too much. Physician," he gave Gaius a bow, turned to Merlin, and paused. "Until we meet again."

He held out his hand again. Merlin glanced at it, then up to Arthur. There was something hopeful hiding in Arthur's professional expression. Did he…want to see Merlin again? Or was this more of Merlin's heart making wishful nonsense?

Grasping Arthur's hand, Merlin said, "Until then."

…

…

Once Arthur was gone, Merlin was able to talk to Gaius about his dreams. Well, first he had to tell Gaius what was going on with Morgana and where he had been for the last two days. Gaius did _not_ approve and spent a good five minutes berating Merlin – and the absent Gwen – for thinking impersonating a duchess was a good idea.

Then Merlin was able to tell Gaius about his dreams-maybe-visions. About how they didn't feel like visions, but they showed him things that he had no way of knowing.

"The first one showed me Lord Agravaine before I had ever met him, and the second…" He shook his head. "What if Gwaine did find Morgana? And what if they really are in a cave somewhere, trapped?"

Gaius was still frowning at him in disappointment, but at least he took the visions seriously. "You said Gwaine is a knight of Camelot?" A nod. "Then he would not have gone off by himself. He would have taken other knights with him. Even if there was a cave in, he would have help."

Except, in the vision, Gwaine and Morgana had definitely been trapped.

In the first vision, Merlin had been standing in the middle of town in a dress, so maybe being literal wasn't the best approach.

"I hope you're right," Merlin said at length, sighing. "I also hope this means Morgana's on her way back to the castle. I can't keep lying to Arthur forever. Especially not with his uncle around."

Though Gaius raised an eyebrow at Merlin's easy use of the prince's name, he didn't comment on it, for which Merlin was grateful. He didn't want to talk about his feelings anymore. Especially not with Gaius.

…

…

Merlin returned to the castle that evening in time for Gwen to dress him for dinner. As she worked, he told her what Gaius and he had talked about: that Gaius thought him using so much magic lately was why he was having strange half-visions; that Gwaine had likely found Morgana; that Agravaine was planning something bad.

"Where is Agravaine, anyway?" Merlin asked as he tied the scarf around his face again. He hadn't seen the lord since breakfast.

Gwen shrugged. "I heard Arthur ask one of his knights the same thing. He said it was strange for his uncle to show up and then vanish so soon."

"He's right." They headed for the door. "Agravaine is definitely up to something. We'll have to keep an eye out."

"Can you play protector and Morgana at the same time?" Gwen asked, worried. "What if your spell wears off again?"

Merlin met her eyes. "If it saves the crown prince, it'll be worth it."

They walked in relative silence to the dining hall, other than Merlin making a comment here or there about how uncomfortable Morgana's clothes or the wig or the scarf were and Gwen teasing him about it.

Sir Leon was standing by the door to the dining hall and bowed to them as they approached, then opened the door. Merlin inclined his head in thanks before entering, Gwen trailing behind. Arthur was already at the table, though he wasn't sitting. He had his hands on the back of his chair and was staring at the floor.

"Is everything alright, Your Highness?" Merlin asked.

Arthur jolted to an upright position and cleared his throat. "Lady Morgana. I didn't hear you come in." Merlin stopped by Morgana's chair but made no move to sit. After a few moments of eye contact, Arthur gave in. "Two of my knights have not been seen all day."

Two knights. One of them must be Gwaine. Gaius was right that Gwaine hadn't gone alone, but Merlin was probably right that they were in trouble.

"Could you send another pair of knights to search for them? I'm sure a few of my guards would be willing to assist."

Arthur nodded. "I would appreciate that." He sighed. "I wish I could say Gwaine wandering off was unusual, but that would be a lie. Percival too, actually. But to be gone so long and with no word is worrisome. Thank you for your help." He motioned to the table. "Shall we eat?"

At the same moment that Merlin nodded, the doors to the dining hall banged open. Sir Leon stood, shocked still, as Lord Agravaine came storming into the room.

"My Lord, step back. That woman is an imposter," Lord Agravaine declared loudly.

Gwen's hands flew up to her face. Lord Agravaine crossed the room in a few quick strides.

"Uncle, that is preposterous," Arthur began, but before he could get another word out, Lord Agravaine had reached them, grabbed the scarf, and ripped it from Merlin's face with so much force that Merlin stumbled. "Uncle!"

Merlin met Agravaine's eyes. Though he had been the one to call fake, even Agravaine appeared shocked by what he saw. After a few moments of silence, Agravaine spoke to Arthur once more, though he never looked away from Merlin's face.

"This is not the woman I met with a few days ago," he announced. "Though I will admit that they are similar in appearance, this is not the Duchess Ealdor." He held the scarf up like damning evidence. "Admit it, girl."

Ire sparked in Merlin at the diminutive term, but it was tempered by panic. What should he do? What should he say?

"Her silence speaks as loud as screams," Agravaine sneered, finally looking away. Merlin blinked, like a rodent released from the gaze of a snake. "Guards! Arrest this impost—!"

"Fine!" Merlin shouted over Agravaine, causing him to shut his mouth in surprise. "Fine. I'm not Morgana."

"What?"

At his sound of surprise, Merlin turned to Arthur. "I'm not the Duchess Ealdor. I meant to tell you today, but things happened and I didn't get the chance. Morgana went missing the day you arrived. I was asked to take her place so that you wouldn't think she was openly aggressive against your father. I swear, it wasn't meant to hurt you or anybody."

Guards were entering the room, answering Agravaine's call. Said Lord scoffed, while his nephew stared between him and Merlin like he was waiting for this to make sense. "No harm, indeed."

Then Agravaine grabbed Merlin by the hair, intending to drag him toward the nearest guard, no doubt. Except the hair he grabbed wasn't Merlin's. The wig came loose in his hand, leaving Merlin's normal short hair in its place. Though he hated that wig, Merlin felt bare without it.

Agravaine laughed and threw the wig away. "More lies."

Taking a deep breath, Merlin stood tall. "You're the liar." It was actually a surprise to hear his voice still so high and feminine.

"Excuse me?" Agravaine spit. "Guards, arrest her!"

None of the guards moved. Some of them must have recognized Merlin, spell or no, from working in the castle for so long, and were keeping the others at bay.

"You've been missing since breakfast, Lord Agravaine," Merlin said. He matched Agravaine glare for glare. "I think you have something to do with Morgana's disappearance."

"You will not accuse me of such things, child," Agravaine said, his fury making every last ounce of smooth oil disappear from his voice. "You will watch your tongue, or you will lose it." He turned to the guards. "What on Earth are you waiting for?! Arthur, tell them!"

Though he had been avoiding looking at Arthur, Merlin now turned to the prince along with Agravaine. He was staring at Merlin with a calculating gaze, as if he were working through a puzzle. They met eyes and time stopped. Merlin did his best to communicate to Arthur, without words, to please, trust him. Please, believe him.

The calculation in Arthur's gaze hardened. He shifted his eyes to Agravaine. "Uncle—"

Whatever he had been about to say was drowned out by a familiar voice calling, "Stop everything!"

Into the room came the Duchess Ealdor herself, Morgana le Fay. Her hair was loose, tangled, and littered with dirt and pebbles. She wore only a nightgown, also dirty and smeared, though she stood as tall as if she wore the richest fabrics. Her skin was paler than usual, but her eyes were bright with justified rage.

Following behind Morgana were Sir Gwaine and a large, muscled man that must have been Sir Percival. They were dirty too, though not so much as Morgana. There were scrapes on Percival's exposed arms, and one across Gwaine's cheek above his beard.

Once they were close enough, Morgana stopped walking and pointed at Agravaine. "This man broke into my bedchambers with armed men and kidnapped me," she accused. "I've been bound and gagged in a cave for two days."

Though she stood tall and proud, Merlin saw the way her arm shook from the effort of keeping it raised. After two days with no food or drink, it was amazing she was still walking on her own. She needed water.

Morgana didn't have to order her guards to do anything. They rushed forward of their own accord to grab Agravaine before he could so much as blink. Within moments he was on his knees beside the dining table with his hands behind his back. Arthur rounded the table, passing Merlin without so much as a glance, to stand before his uncle.

"Explain yourself," Arthur said. It was the softest demand Merlin had ever heard.

"Arthur, you can't honestly believe—"

"Now!"

Agravaine flinched and glanced away to the stone floor. After a few moments of quiet, he finally said, "She's an usurper."

"Excuse me?" Arthur's voice was deadly calm.

"You are the rightful heir to this kingdom. The son of my sister Igraine and King Uther Pendragon." Agravaine lifted his eyes to Arthur again. "She is a sorceress and a trickster and has no right to your throne."

"She is my sister," Arthur hissed. He didn't react when Morgana, Merlin, and Gwen all gasped simultaneously. His eyes were only for his uncle. "She has as much right to the throne as I do. More, in fact, as the eldest child."

"She is not a legitimate heir, Arthur." Agravaine was trying to sweet talk again. Merlin shuddered in revulsion. "She cannot be queen in your place. No one can."

Arthur rubbed his face with his hands and sighed, then pinched the bridge of his nose. In a voice as weary as if fresh from war, he said, "Take him to a cell. I will deal with him later."

All the way out the door, Agravaine shouted for Arthur to listen to him, that he had done nothing wrong, that he had done everything for Arthur and the kingdom. Only once he was gone did Arthur lower his hand and open his eyes again, this time focusing on Morgana.

"Lady Morgana?" She nodded. "I'm sorry for all that you've been through."

While they were distracted with introductions, apologies, and explanations, Merlin stepped back. And back. He slipped out through the servants' door without even Gwen noticing he was gone. He didn't stop at Morgana's room to change clothes. He didn't wait to drop the spell. No, Merlin walked home to Gaius' shop still wearing Morgana's dress, and with a heavy chest that had nothing to do with his bosom.

It was over. Morgana was home. What had happened to her had been revealed and the one responsible was in custody. Even the connection between Arthur and Morgana had been explained. There was no more need for Merlin to pretend to be a woman or to spend time at Arthur's side. Now Arthur knew he was a fraud. Soon enough, someone would tell him that Merlin was a man – probably Morgana or Gwen, as they defended him to the prince and convinced Arthur not to charge him with a crime.

It was over. It felt like waking from a dream. It felt like walking out of a fairytale. Now everything would return to normal. It was all over.

…

…

The waitress – the same busty one that Will had flirted with before – dropped off two cups of mead to the table in the far corner. Will grabbed one and winked at her.

"Thank you, beautiful." She winked back before walking away, though she glanced back to catch Will watching her leave. "What did I tell you, Merlin? She's falling head over heels in love with me."

Merlin hummed noncommittally and downed half of his drink. His gaze was across the room, but he wasn't looking at anyone in particular. It was the usual crowd, plus a few travelers, doing their usual drinking and eating and lounging about. Nothing had changed, and why should it? Merlin had only been gone for two days, and nothing of note had happened. There had been no battles, no noticeable magic spells, no public arrests or executions. None of these people even knew Morgana had gone missing.

"Okay, you said nothing was wrong but you've been staring at the stuffed deer for five minutes. Explain yourself," Will demanded, knocking Merlin's shoulder with his own.

Merlin focused on his cup as he drank again, only to find it empty. Frowning, he asked, "Explain what?"

Will gestured to Merlin. "This. You said you were a woman because the duchess was missing but that she's back and you're done. What happened?"

When their waitress turned around, Merlin held up his cup to indicate he wanted another. She nodded to show she understood. Will was still staring expectantly at him when Merlin faced him again.

"I'm hiding from Ar—from the Prince," Merlin admitted.

Now Will frowned like Merlin had offended him. "What? He gonna arrest you for impersonating a noble? Does he even know who you are?"

A shrug. "Someone probably told him. Besides, he's met me as me and he knows I look like, er, me, so it won't be hard to figure out." He scratched his forehead and then shook his head. "But I don't think he'll arrest me. I know Morgana and Gwen will explain the situation, and Arthur isn't the kind of person to arrest someone who broke the law for a good reason." Merlin propped his chin in his hand and tapped his fingers on the side of his empty cup. "Still," he told the wood of the table, "I'd rather avoid running into him."

The waitress reappeared with a new cup, replacing his old one. "Anything for you, dear?" she asked Will.

"Nah, but make sure you check back later, eh?" Will grinned. "Maybe I could buy you a round once your shift is over."

The woman gave a low laugh and Merlin wasn't sure if she was flattered and considering it or if she thought Will was funny for trying. He was usually better at reading people than this. Maybe he'd had too much to drink. How many _had_ he drunk already anyway? He couldn't count the cups since the waitress kept taking them away.

"You know what I think?" Will asked. Merlin hummed his question and Will pointed at him, nearly poking Merlin in the nose. "I think you fancy this prince."

The mead was a fascinating color. It looked darker than usual in this cup though. "Yeah. I do."

Will blinked rapidly. "Exactly how sloshed are you, mate? You never admit to this shit this easy."

Merlin shrugged. "I admit it because I know it's stupid. There's no point to these feelings. Nothing'll come of them. Given enough time, once he's gone…I'll get over them. Simple as that."

Will frowned at him for a long while. Then he downed the rest of his mead in one go. "Okay, look. Maybe I'm not the best judge, since I wasn't there for any of it, but from what you've said and what I saw in the shop…I don't know, he seemed to like you too."

"Of course he liked me," Merlin agreed, though he couldn't help the slight bitter tone to his voice. It was the mead. "I was impersonating his _sister_."

"Yeah, I don't think so. I think he fancies you."

Shaking his head, Merlin turned to watch the crowds again. Will could say that all he wanted, but it wouldn't make a difference. And Merlin was telling the truth anyway. Given time, he would get over his feelings for Arthur. They had only known each other for two, arguably three, days. How long could it take to get over feelings born of such a short time?

…

…

Almost a week later, Gwen's father presented Merlin with a beautifully crafted knife and Merlin made the final payment on Morgana's birthday gift. Lancelot wasn't around. According to Tom, Lancelot was up at the castle prepping for life as a knight.

Merlin waited around the house, helping Tom with fixing things, cleaning stuff, and making dinner, until Gwen arrived home that night. Then he led her around the side of the house to where they could talk in peace. From within his tunic he produced the dagger and held it out for her.

"Give it to Morgana for me? For her birthday. How is she?"

Gwen turned the dagger one way, then the other, inspecting it as if she thought Merlin might have already damaged it. "She's doing alright. Working with Arthur distracts and calms her." She lowered the blade and narrowed her eyes at Merlin. "I'm glad he's leaving in a few days though."

Merlin frowned. "Why?" Had Arthur done something? Had the events of the other day caused him to treat people badly? Did Merlin need to go turn him into a fence post?

Okay he didn't know if that last one was even possible, but it was the thought that counted.

"Because once he's gone, maybe you'll start acting like our friend again, instead of like the coward I know you aren't."

With that last cutting remark, Gwen walked away and into her home, leaving Merlin standing in the falling dark.

…

…

The Prince of Albion and his entourage left Ealdor four days later, after celebrating the Duchess Ealdor's birthday with her. Merlin waited two more days before venturing up to the castle himself. He was directed to the stables, where Morgana was having two horses readied for a ride.

"Merlin, perfect timing," she greeted. A stable hand offered her the reins to her horse and she thanked him.

"Perfect because you're about to ride off and leave me alone?" Merlin asked as she hefted herself gracefully into the saddle. He knew Gwen was upset with him over his behavior since Morgana returned. Was Morgana upset as well? Would she avoid him too?

Morgana gave a laugh. "No. Perfect because our horses are ready. Come on, mount up."

Merlin almost asked how she had known he was coming that day, but then he remembered her seer powers. They may not be reliable all the time, but they did make her spookily knowledgeable sometimes. Merlin accepted the reins from another stable hand and mounted Glydia for the second time in only three weeks.

They rode out of the courtyard and out of town. For a few minutes, Merlin thought they were going to ride the same path that he and Arthur had taken – over the river past the tree line – but then Morgana turned and led them out through the farmlands instead. His heart constricted and he wasn't sure if it was from relief or longing.

"It turns out that I am not my father's daughter after all," Morgana said into the quiet air between them.

Merlin kicked Glydia to go faster so she was next to Morgana's mount instead of behind it. "What?"

The smile Morgana wore was bittersweet. "Arthur found out from his father two years ago. During the wars, my father was off fighting elsewhere while Uther protected the home front. He had a sorcerer enchant him so that when my mother looked upon him, she would see my father. He probably gave my father the position of Duke of Ealdor out of regret or something, as much as to thank him for his services," she spat.

"Though he had me, no one knew I was his child, and they had just unified the kingdoms, so news of his indiscretion would have had kingdom ruining effects…Besides which, he wanted a boy. After a long time, and a lot of magical help, his wife conceived Arthur. It wasn't until his wife died that he got drunk enough to spill his dirty secret to his son." She sighed. "And then it wasn't it until he started trying to force marriage on his son that Arthur pointed out that, as the oldest child, technically _I _am the rightful heir to the throne, not him."

Talking done, Morgana leaned forward over her horse's neck and rested her forehead in its mane. As the road was straight and flat, her horse continued on regardless.

Merlin frowned, worried. "Do you…want to be queen?"

"I've never even considered the possibility before," Morgana said into her horse's neck. Inhaling deeply, she sat up straight and proper again. "I've agreed to keep communications open with Arthur though. It's not his fault his father's a horse's ass."

Merlin snorted, then cleared his throat as if that would cover it up. Morgana smiled at him.

"That Lord Agravaine kidnapped me because he thought my silence toward the king was because I was plotting to take the throne," she told him, as if it were juicy gossip. A scoff. "Stupid man."

A heard of sheep was being moved across the road, and they both stopped their horses a fair distance away to wait until the road was clear. The herders beamed and waved at Morgana in excitement. They were too far away for speech, however. It was probably for the best. They were already bowing and trying to mime out how sorry they were for taking up the road. Morgana just smiled at them benignly.

Only once they were away from the herders and their flock did Merlin ask, "What did he do to you?" When Morgana lifted a questioning eyebrow, he clarified, "You told Arthur he brought armed men into your room to kidnap you. That you were in a cave."

"Ah." Morgana shook her head. "That's most of it, actually. They drugged me, so I had no idea where I was when I woke up again. He had his men drop me in that cave and then I was all alone. I didn't see anyone until he came back in a fluster. I assume that's because he saw you acting in my place and wanted to make sure I was still dying alone in a cave or something. When he left, those two knights showed up." A tut. "Silly. They got caught by the lord and he trapped us all in there together."

"With a cave in."

Morgana's head snapped to look at him. "How did you know?"

A shrug. "I had really strange dreams. Not visions. More like…a blend of the two."

"That would explain it."

Frowning, Merlin asked, "Explain what?"

"We couldn't get a single rock to shift – not even that muscled knight, Sir Percival. Then, suddenly, I got the strangest sensation you were standing next to me."

Merlin jolted. "What?"

Nodding, like she was accepting Merlin's shock and validating it, Morgana said, "I thought I was hallucinating from lack of water, but the feeling was so strong…I called out to you…and the cave in cracked open to let us out."

He had felt like he was cracking to pieces just before he woke up that afternoon. Had he really managed to do magic at such a distance? In his sleep? "How is that possible?"

Morgana smirked at him, looking every bit like a noble lady plotting devious deeds. "I think you're a stronger sorcerer than even you know." Her smirk grew as he blushed, and then she shook her head. "Which is why I'm so upset at you for running away like that."

To their left were fields and fields of crops. To their right was open pastureland with cows standing about, as still as statues except for the occasional flick of a tail or munch of grass. There was no fence to stop Merlin from turning Glydia into that field and running away from the conversation, and no people to look at him oddly either. It was just him, the animals, and the duchess.

"If you were so upset, you could have sent the guards after me," Merlin muttered, knowing he sounded like a petulant child.

"I would have," Morgana agreed, "Except right when I noticed you were gone…I fainted."

Merlin drew back on his reins, pulling Glydia to a stop. Morgana followed shortly after. "You what?!"

She gave him a pitying yet fond look, like one might to a child who asked a stupid question. "I was over two days without a drink, Merlin. I shouldn't have been standing at all. Besides, I'm alright now."

That's what Merlin had thought at the time – that it was amazing she was still standing – and yet the idea of Morgana fainting…It made the truth of her confinement all the more real. Merlin lowered his gaze to his saddle horn. She could have died. She could have died alone in that cave. Thank the gods for the Knights of Camelot.

"Arthur isn't upset with you."

Merlin hesitantly lifted his eyes to Morgana again. She made no move to continue their ride, just looked at him softly.

"He seemed sad, actually," she said. "You should have stayed to explain things yourself."

Merlin frowned. "Upset or not, it's for the best that I stayed away." He swallowed. His chest ached. "It's for the best that we didn't meet again."

Morgana hummed. "Do you know that you won't?" Merlin tilted his head in confusion. "You're both young, and time is long. You may yet see each other again."

Had she had a vision, or was she planning on meddling herself? Was she speaking as a seer or a friend? Before Merlin could ask, Morgana turned her horse around and began a steady walk back toward town. She turned the topic of conversation to what Merlin had done for Lancelot, and how she was cross at him for it – because they both knew Gwen would join Lancelot in the capital sooner rather than later. Merlin laughed and apologized, and forgot to ask her about Arthur.

…

…

Gaius did accept the invitation to the meeting of physicians and mages in Camelot. He closed up his shop for awhile, packed his bags, and dragged Merlin kicking and complaining onto the road for a trip to the capital.

"You've always wanted to see Camelot, so I'm not sure why you're whining so much," the old man commented after their first day's travel.

Unless Merlin wanted to admit that even two months since seeing the prince, Merlin still dreamed of Arthur, he had to shut his mouth and go along with whatever Gaius wanted. So they finished their travel in relative peace.

And the capital was just as grand as Merlin had always dreamed it was. The buildings were taller. The roads were wider, and every one of them was paved. There were statues on what seemed to be every corner. There were so many inns and taverns and bakeries and shops that Merlin lost count. Someone was playing music no matter where they went. And the people! There were so many people! Merlin nearly lost Gaius twice in the crowd even though they were standing right next to each other.

Merlin had thought they would stay at an inn somewhere, but instead Gaius led him to a fancy, upscale physician's home. Like their place back in Ealdor, the physician's office was downstairs and the home was upstairs, but this place was easily three times the size of theirs, and there were six assistants working inside waiting to help them.

"No, we're not here for a consultation. Could you fetch Alice for me? Thank you."

Alice, it turned out, was the head physician of the shop and the person who lived in the home above it. She had long, light brown hair that was fading to grey, braided over one shoulder to keep it out of the way. Her face was kindly and she broke out in the fondest, happiest smile Merlin had ever seen when she saw who had come to call upon her.

"Oh, Gaius. It has been too long," she said before wrapping him up in a hug. The shocking part was that Gaius hugged her back.

Merlin cleared his throat and the two drew apart. The other assistants kept their eyes averted from the scene, but they were all smiling.

"And who is this?" Alice asked.

"My nephew, and assistant, Merlin," Gaius introduced.

Alice took Merlin's hands in her own. "Hunith's son?" A nod. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Your mother and I knew each other as girls. She was always so lovely."

"Thank you."

Merlin's cheeks felt hot as Alice told him how handsome he was, and how he had grown up well, and his mother would be so proud of him. It wasn't until Gaius cleared _his_ throat that Alice remembered herself and released Merlin's hands.

"Are you here for the gathering?" Alice asked, before either of them could speak.

Gaius nodded. "Yes. I was hoping, or, I was wondering…Would it be too much to ask to stay here during our visit?"

Merlin stared at Gaius with wide eyes. He had never seen his uncle so flustered before. Gaius was direct and no-nonsense. He told people what he was thinking without much care for how it would make them feel. The only time he was softer was with patients going through a hard time. This hesitant, blushing man beside him was a stranger to Merlin.

Alice set them up in the spare room in her home. Once she had left them alone, Merlin said, "I think I know why you wanted to come to Camelot."

Setting his bag on the floor against the wall, Gaius said, "Of course you do. This is a momentous occasion." He stretched and his back popped in three places, making him groan and sit down on the bed. "Many physicians used to practice magic to help with their healing as well. Most that live in the countryside still do. The fact that they could do so in the capital again is exciting."

Merlin sat down next to his uncle. "And you get to see Alice again. That must be nice."

Gaius smiled, a smile like he couldn't help it. "It is. I haven't seen her in….oh, almost twenty years."

"And you still love her, even so."

The smile vanished, replaced with a scowl. "Merlin!"

Merlin held his hands up. "It's easy to see. The way you two greeted each other."

Standing up, Gaius began to walk here and there in the room without purpose. "Ridiculous. We're just friends—It's been twenty years—I'm sure she—From my own nephew. Preposterous." Merlin started to laugh and Gaius glared at him. With that infamous eyebrow, it was horrifying. "Keep that mouth of yours shut, Merlin. I don't want you saying such unnecessary things to Alice. She's the kindest person you'll ever meet and doesn't deserve your teasing."

"I promise," Merlin said, though he fully intended to pry if given the chance.

…

…

For the few days before the gathering, Merlin and Gaius helped Alice and her assistants with the shop. Merlin also used his magic to help fix things around her house that she couldn't do herself. She was always amazed to see him work.

"I've seen magic before. I'm even a witch myself. Your level of control, and your power…It's unbelievable," she told him on their second night.

She pulled out a dust covered tome and handed it to him. A book of spells, incantations, and potions greeted him when he flipped the cover open.

"I think you'll put this to more use than I ever could," she said with a warm smile. "Do good for this world."

Merlin gaped at her. "Thank you. Really. Thank you."

It wasn't until later, as he was looking through the book after supper, that Merlin realized he was imagining showing the new spells to Arthur, seeing him laugh or gasp or watching his eyes light up. He practically slammed the book shut.

Two months had passed. Why couldn't he stop thinking about the prince? Why couldn't he move on already?

Merlin moved to the open window and stared out at the street below, at the buildings lining the street. Just visible over the top of the buildings at the far end of the street was one of the towers of Camelot Castle. Arthur was practically close enough to touch, and yet as far away as ever.

Even if Merlin went to the castle, they wouldn't let him in. He was just a physician's assistant, no one important. Telling them he was the guy who transformed himself into a woman and impersonated the Duchess Ealdor was also not helpful to seeing Arthur. It was more likely to get him in a prison cell.

Merlin sighed and hung his head. It seemed he could no more forget about Arthur than forget about magic, or Gaius, especially when they were so near each other. This would be a long, long trip.

…

…

The gathering of physicians and mage healers was really just a group of around fifty people meeting in the dining hall of an inn to discuss different remedies, both magical and scientific. Where everyone else was wearing formal robes, Merlin wore his usual brown trousers, red tunic, and blue neckerchief. That was because he hadn't even know he was attending the meeting.

"Are you really wearing _that_ to the gathering?" Gaius had asked him that morning.

Merlin, perched on the end of the bed, looked up from his new spell book with wide eyes. "Wait, what? I'm going too?"

Gaius gave a longsuffering sigh. "You are my sole assistant in running the shop in Ealdor _and _one of the most powerful magic users I have ever known. Of course you're going. Why else would I have brought you?"

Well now he felt stupid. "…To carry your bags?"

"Honestly, Merlin."

There had been no time to buy dress clothes – since Merlin had not packed any – so in his day-to-day outfit he went.

A lot of the mages in attendance were older, around Gaius and Alice's ages, though a few looked closer to Merlin's age. The physicians were pretty evenly split between the two. With magic users so discriminated against in the capital up until then, the lack of younger practitioners wasn't surprising. They were probably scared this was a trick. The older generation didn't share this fear.

Merlin was introduced to everyone. To the mages, Gaius introduced him as 'My nephew' because they accepted that family taught family their skills. To the physicians, Gaius introduced him as 'My assistant' or 'My protégé.'

There was no official docket for the gathering, no official lecturers or miniature gatherings to discuss specific topics. Discussions flowed around the room as they came to mind, and people moved from group to group as their interested was piqued or waned.

Merlin heard from people discussing the importance on the position of the planets and stars to healing or causing illnesses; learned all about various ways to resuscitate someone who had drowned; passed on a conversation about bleeding out humors to cure diseases of both the body and the mind; and participated in a discussion on spells to mend broken bones.

The gathering had been going on for a few hours, and Merlin had joined a group of older mages teaching younger mages – and physicians – about the medicinal properties of herbs that most people thought were good only for cooking. In fact, using these herbs in cooking was a great way to benefit from those very same medicinal properties.

Then the door to the dining hall opened and King Uther Pendragon himself walked in, his son and four knights mere steps behind him. Conversation halted. It was so quiet that one could have heard a cockroach skitter in the corner.

"Do not stop on my account," Uther said, his deep voice booming through the room even though he was not shouting. "I simply came to give my regards and see how things were going."

Slowly, hesitantly, people began to pick up their conversations where they left off. A lot of the tension lifted when the knights sat down at a table and hailed a waitress. Uther himself was even drawn into conversation with a few of those gathered – including Gaius, whom he greeted with a warm smile and a clap on the shoulder.

Though those around him had continued their discussion, Merlin took in not a word. Arthur looked resplendent in his princely garb, all done up for the gathering. He even wore his golden prince's circlet, which made his hair look shinier and warmer as well.

He was also talking to Gaius, who waved to the room at large, and then Arthur was looking around, searching. His gaze passed over Merlin, paused, and returned. Merlin's heart jumped into his throat and hammered away there, intent on escaping through his mouth no matter how many times he swallowed it down.

What did Arthur see when he looked at Merlin? The commoner who spooked his horse, led him to Gaius, and showed him none of the respect a prince deserved? The criminal who impersonated a duchess? Did he see the duchess? The conflicted expression and frown on Arthur's face did not speak well of his thoughts.

Uther drew Arthur's attention away, back to Gaius and, now, Alice. While he was distracted, Merlin bid farewell to those he was speaking to and snuck out of the inn as quietly as if he had cast a spell to hide himself.

…

…

Alice had a small, fenced in back yard behind her physician shop and home. It was that enclosed space that Merlin retreated to when he returned. There was dirt and grass and plants in that little yard, so different from the paved road and multi-storied buildings all around it. He had also busied himself washing Alice's patient bed sheets. The hard scrubbing distracted him, even if momentarily, from how stupid he was.

"Gwen's right," he sighed as he began hanging the sheets up to dry. "I have become a coward."

Around him, other sheets were pulling themselves from the basket of clean, but wet, laundry and hanging themselves on the lines drawn across the yard. Surrounded by sheets blowing in the gentle breeze, Merlin almost felt like he was back in Ealdor. It was as if he had run all the way home just to avoid facing his own feelings. And Arthur's.

"What am I doing?" he asked the air, tipping his head back to stare at the sky.

"It looks to me like laundry."

Merlin yelped and all the sheets his magic had been working on dropped to the ground. There, standing just outside the back door, was Arthur Pendragon, still in his princely regalia. Merlin looked from him to the sheets now lying in the dirt and back twice.

"Now I'm going to have to rewash those, I hope you know. You shouldn't go around startling people like that," he chastised, and was proud of how strong his voice came out when his heart was back to running a race.

Arthur shook his head. "Just like nobility to think they can go around doing whatever they want, isn't it?"

He was smiling. It was just a quirk of the lips, but Arthur was smiling. There wasn't a trace of anger or suspicion anywhere on his face. That was enough to give Merlin the confidence to quip back, "It is."

Silence descended. The sounds of city life drifted over the fences around Alice's yard, mingling with the soft flap of fabric in the wind from the sheets that hadn't been knocked from the lines, but neither man spoke. Merlin didn't lower his eyes, though. He held Arthur's gaze through the awkward quiet, waiting for the prince to explain why he was there.

Finally, Arthur cleared his throat and looked away. "Did the Duchess Ealdor tell you the deal we made?"

Merlin blinked rapidly a few times, as if that would clear his confusion. "Er, no?"

Arthur crossed his arms, still not looking at Merlin, but at a bush growing in the corner of the yard. "I will become king of Albion, as my father intended. However, when she marries and has children of her own, they will be the rightful heirs to the throne after me. No one will contest them, since I have no plans for heirs myself. She can continue to be a Duchess and marry whom she wishes…and I can do the same."

Face scrunching up in confusion, Merlin said, "I don't understand."

When Arthur faced him again, Merlin saw that his cheeks were faintly pink. The prince cleared his throat. "I've been feeling rather sick lately. You're a physician's assistant. Maybe you can help me out."

Before Merlin could ask what Arthur being sick had to do with Arthur marrying, Arthur stepped further into the yard, speaking as he closed the distance between them.

"It started when I met this impertinent commoner. He had ears that stuck out from his head and made him look absolutely ridiculous—"

"Hey," Merlin protested, his hands coming up to cover his ears.

"—but also the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen, and an attitude to speak back to a prince without fear," Arthur continued. He walked a circle around Merlin. "Then I met my sister, and she had the same blue eyes and the same attitude to tell me when I'm being a prat."

Against his better judgment, Merlin let out a snort of amusement. Arthur's cheeks grew more pink, but he seemed pleased by the reaction. He stopped in front of Merlin, barely an arm's length away. His voice was low and fond when he spoke.

"She understood me after mere hours together. She made me want to be better than I was." He scowled and looked away. "And I felt like the worst pervert in history for even entertaining the _idea_ of perhaps _marrying_ her, sister or not, simply because she was the first woman I'd ever considered such a thing with." He turned his scowl on Merlin. "I'm still sour about that. You had me fancying my sister."

Merlin crossed his arms. "I did no such thing. I just acted like a noble. You're the one who, er," he faltered. Did Arthur just say he fancied Merlin?

Arthur smirked as Merlin's face heated up. "Imagine my surprise, and my utter _relief_, to learn that the person I'd been fancying wasn't my sister, but a man. And not only was she a man, she was the same impertinent commoner who accosted me on my first day. _And_ he ran off before even explaining himself. Twice."

"Sounds," Merlin cleared his throat. "Sound complicated."

A sagely nod and Arthur crossed his arms. "It is. So, physician, I've been feeling heartsick for months now. I've seen you heal broken bones before. I believe maybe it's within your power to heal this too."

He was blushing again. Who knew a prince could blush so much? Not that Merlin felt much better. Gaius could cook one of his awful stews on Merlin's face instead of the hearth.

"What sort of cure did you have in mind?" Merlin asked. "A memory wipe? A love potion?"

Arthur shook his head. "I was thinking more…a confession." He took half a step closer, erasing almost every inch of space between them. "If I asked him to become my official consort and live his life by my side, here in Camelot…Would that make me feel better or worse?"

Though his step forward and his pose were confident, the way his words shook and his eyes could not stay focused on Merlin's spoke of his insecurity. It was clearly not an emotion Arthur was used to feeling, if the discomfited frown on his face meant anything. Strangely, Arthur's anxiety eased Merlin's, and it was with confidence that he said, "In my expert opinion, I'd say it depends on if your impertinent commoner says yes or not." Arthur finally met his eyes. "And he does, by the way. Say yes. He's been feeling pretty heartsick as well, and this cure would work for him too."

Arthur let out a long, loud breath of relief. "Well that's good. This would have been terribly embarrassing otherwise."

Merlin held up a finger. "You have to still let me visit Ealdor whenever I want," he said. "All my friends are there, and I'm not giving up my entire life for you, prince or not."

Chuckling, Arthur agreed. "This attitude," he said. "You're going to make castle life very interesting, aren't you?"

"I thought that's what you loved about me," Merlin shot back with a teasing smile.

In the next moment, Arthur's lips were on his. A hand was on his cheek, pulling him in and holding him there. He was kissing Arthur Pendragon. Explosions went off in Merlin's chest and he kissed back with fervor. Over and over, until Arthur drew back far enough for speech.

"It's one reason," Arthur said, his breath ghosting over Merlin's lips. "I'm looking forward to learning more."

…

_fin_


End file.
